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JACK    GORDON, 

KNIGHT    ERRANT, 
GOTHAM, 

1883. 


BY 

W.  C.  HUDSON  (BARCLAY  NORTH), 
AUTHOR  OF  "THE  DIAMOND  BUTTON:  WHOSE  WAS  IT?"  ETC. 


CASSELL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

104  &  106  FOURTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT, 

1890, 
By  O.  M.  DUNHAM. 

All  rights  reserved. 


Press  W.  L.   Mershon  &:  Co., 
Rahway.   N.  J 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER. 

I.  AN  AMATEUR  CABMAN, 

II.  MR.  RENFREW  AT  HOME,  - 

III.  A  MODERN  KNIGHT  ERRANT, 

IV.  A  GAME  OF  BLUFF,     - 
V.  "  MAMA  JAMIESON," 

VI.  THE  PACKAGE, 

VII.  GORDON'S  SENSATION,     - 

VIII.  DR.  SHERMAN  READS  THE  NEWS, 

IX.  CAPTAIN  LAWTON  AT  WORK, 

X.  CAPTAIN  LAWTON'S  VISITOR,     - 

XI.  THE  ROSEBUD  PARTY,   - 

XII.  WEB  SPINNING, 

XIII.  AN  INTERVIEW  OF  CONSEQUENCES, 

XIV.  SETTING  THE  LINES, 
XV.  JACK  is  ENTANGLED,     - 

XVI.  BEHIND  THE  BARS,     - 

XVII.  ADMIRABLE  OBSTINACY, 

XVIII.  REMINISCENCES  WITH  A  PURPOSE, 

XIX.  LUCY'S  CRIME.       - 

» 

XX.  JACK  AS  A  COUNSELOR, 

XXI.  SOME  MATTERS  OF  INTEREST, 

XXII.  TRUE  LOVE  RUNS  SMOOTHLY,   - 

XXIII.  A  WOLF  AMONG  THE  LAMBS, 
iii 


PAGE. 

I 

II 

18 

22 
30 
41 

45 

52 

59 

7i 

80 

go 

96 

no 

1 20 

131 
144 
154 
161 
i?i 
178 
190 
198 


2136138 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

XXIV.     STARTLING  NEWS,   -                       .       .  205 
XXV.     EVENTS  PROGRESS  RAPIDLY,       .        -        -  214 
XXVI.     THE  DOCTOR  PHILOSOPHIZES  ON  WRONG- 
DOING,        ...  222 
XXVII.     A  BAFFLED  DETECTIVE,       -        -        -        -  228 


XXVIII. 
XXIX. 


OBLIGATIONS  OF  FRIENDSHIP, 
MARRIAGE  BELLS 


239 
-    245 


m.J.inu, 


JACK  GORDON,   KNIGHT   ERRANT, 
GOTHAM,    i88j. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AN   AMATEUR  CABMAN. 

THERE  are  nights  in  the  latter  part  of  Novem- 
ber in  New  York,  when  existence  is  a  joy  and 
exercise  a  delight  ;  when  the  weather  is  clear, 
cold  and  crisp  ;  when  people  walk  briskly  and  set 
their  feet  down  firmly  ;  when  cheeks  tingle  from 
contact  with  the  air  yet/suffer  no  discomfort  ;  when 
the  -gas  shines  through  the  plate-glass  with  increased 
brightness  and  the  electric  lights  extend  the  area 
of  their  brilliancy— nights-  when  the  true  son  of 
Gotham  would  contemplate  with  contempt  an  offer 
to  barter  a  walk  from  Twenty-third  to  Thirty- 
third  street,  for  a  stroll  over  the  most  famous  prom- 
enade the  world  knows. 

On  such  a  night  in  1883,  a  young  man,  about 
twenty-five  or  six,  flung  open  the  swinging  doors 
of  one  of  the  hotels  facing  Madison  Square,  with 
unnecessary  vigor,  and  stepped  out  on  the  pave- 
ment. 

He  was  clad  in  irreproachable  evening  dress. 
The  chill  air  suggested  the  wisdom  of  buttoning 
the  heavy  top-coat  he  wore.  So  he  stopped  to  do 
so,  and  thus  gave  the  cabmen,  attentive  upon  him, 
a  moment's  suspense,  while  he  considered  which 
way  he  should  go. 


2  JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

He  disappointed  them  all  by  walking  up  Broad- 
way. He  was  unmistakably  a  young  man  of  fash- 
ion, his  air  showed  that  ;  he  was  an  athlete,  his  free 
carriage  and  elastic  bearing  determined  that. 

Spurning  the  attractions  a  famous  restaurant 
held  out  on  one  side,  and  a  hotel,  which  is,  and  was 
then,  a  popular  rendezvous  on  the  other,  he  con- 
tinued on  his  way  for  several  blocks,  when  he 
crossed  to  another  hotel,  under  the  portico  of 
which  stood  a  group  of  several  young  men,  like  him- 
self irreproachably  clad  in  evening  dress. 

As  he  approached,  one  of  this  group  observed 
him  and  cried  out,  "  Here's  Jack  Gordon  !  Ask 
him.  He  knows  all  the  women  in  town." 

"  What's  up,  <  Dizzy,'  that  you  herald  my  ap- 
proach with  such  vociferous  and  gratuitous  infor- 
mation," asked  the  new-comer,  inserting  a  single 
glass  in  his  eye  to  look  upon  his  friend  and  drop- 
ping it  because  it  obscured  his  vision. 

For  answer  he  was  led  around  the  corner,  and  in 
front  of  a  large  window  of  the  restaurant  of  the 
hotel  from  which  the  curtains  were  drawn.  Here, 
seated  some  distance  from  the  window,  but  in  full 
view,  sat  a  young  and  striking-looking  woman, 
richly  clad.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  table 
was  a  plainly  dressed  woman,  the  senior  of  the 
other  by  a  dozen  years,  and  quite  evidently  a 
servant. 

"Well?"  said  Gordon,  inquiringly. 

"  What  actress  is  that  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  think  she  is  an  actress?"  asked  he 
in  reply,  again  inserting  his  single  glass  and  again 
dropping  it  immediately. 

"  Why  ?  Well,  because  she  is  so  striking  in  ap- 
pearance." 

"  A  compliment  to  the  fair  damsels  of  the  stage," 
interrupted  Gordon. 

"  And  because  she  is  here  in  a  restaurant  at  this 


AN  AMATEUR   CABMAN.  3 

time  of  the  night  alone,  accompanied  only  by  a 
maid." 

"  Arguing  thereby  the  possession  of  an  acute 
observation  upon  your  part,"  he  commented. 

"Well,  who  is  she?" 

"  The  reliance  you  place  upon  my  general  infor- 
mation is  touching.  However,  it  is  misplaced.  I 
don't  know  who  she  is.  But  I  am  willing  to  bet 
she  is  not  an  actress  with  any  one." 

"  Why?" 

"  Because  she  is  too  conscious  of  the  attention 
she  is  attracting  from  those  in  the  room,  and  more- 
over embarrassed  by  it.  Take  my  word  for  it,  she 
is  a  private  lady  not  accustomed  to  be  on  public 
exhibition." 

"  Well  if  she  is  not  an  actress,  who  is  she  ?  " 

"  Again  that  inexhaustible  reservoir — my  infor- 
mation— fails  to  respond  to  drafts  upon  it.  I  don't 
know.  I  never  saw  her  before.  But  why  all  this 
interest  ?  What  has  she  done  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  except  to  drive  here  in  a  hired  cab," 
said  one  who  had  not  yet  spoken.  "  We  were  all 
standing  here  when  she  drove  up,  and  started  a  dis- 
cussion as  to  who  and  what  she  was." 

"The  town  is  sadly  dull  when  you  are  driven  to 
such  desperate  straits  for  amusement,"  said  Gordon. 

"'  Dizzy'  is  trying  to  screw  his  courage  up  to 
speak  to  the  fair  unknown,"  said  another,  "  but  it 
slips  down  before  he  can  force  it  up  to  the  sticking- 
place." 

"  Bet  you  a  bottle,  not  one  of  you  dare  do  it," 
cried  the  one  called  '  Dizzy,'  a  blonde  youth  with 
pink  cheeks,  much  undersized. 

"  There's  a  chance,  Jack,"  said  another.  "  I'm 
stumped.  I  don't  dare  do  it." 

"  Oh,  that's  an  easy  bet — and  too  easily  won," 
replied  Gordon.  "  True,  you  may  have  to  explain 
the  little  affair  afterward  at  the  station-house,  but 


4  JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

you  could  win  your  bet  just  the  same.  But, 
'  Dizzy,'  I'll  bet  you  a  half-dozen  I  drive  the  lady 
home." 

"  Oh,  oh,  oh  !  "  cried  several  voices. 

"  Drive  her  away  from  this  restaurant —  ?  " 

"  Drive  her  away  from  this  restaurant.  Do  you 
think  I'm  a  policeman  ?  No,  I'll  drive  away  with 
her." 

"  That's  what  I  mean.  You  will  drive  away  from 
this  restaurant  with  her,  to  her  home  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh,  come,  that's  a  little  too  much.  I  know 
your  audacity,  but — " 

"  Do  you  refuse  the  bet  ? " 

"  Refuse  it  ?  No,  if  you  insist  upon  it.  It  will 
do  you  good  to  have  to  pay  for  your  bluffing  once 
in  a  while." 

"  I'm  not  blurring." 

"  You  say  you  don't  know  her." 

"  I  said  so,  and  it's  the  truth.  I  never  saw  her 
before." 

"  All  right,  I'll  take  the  bet.  The  wine  to  be 
opened  here  to-night." 

"  Very  well.  I  shall  insist  that  every  one  shall 
go  out  of  sight  except  the  one  '  Dizzy  '  chooses  to 
see  that  I  carry  out  the  bet." 

"  All  right.  '  I'll  choose  Will  Robb." 

"  I'm  satisfied,"  said  Gordon.  "  Now  please  all 
go  except  Robb  ;  I  see  that  the  fair  lady  is  prepar- 
ing to  pay  her  bill." 

The  young  men  all  hurried  away,  so  as  not  to 
spoil  the  sport. 

Gordon,  closely  followed  by  Robb,  walked  down 
the  street  a  short  distance  to  where  a  number  of 
cabmen  were  standing. 

"  Where's  Herrick  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Here  I  am,  sor,"  said  a  liveried  driver,  coming 
from  behind  his  cab  ;  seeing  who  it  was,  he  added 


AN  AMATEUR   CABMAN.  5 

with  a  grin  of  recognition,  "  How  are  ye  this  ev'- 
nin,'  sor  ?  " 

"  I  want  your  rig,  Herrick." 

*'  To  drive  it,  sor." 

"  Yes.  On  the  old  terms.  Double  fare,  and  I 
pay  all  damage." 

"  All  right,  sor,"  replied  the  cabman,  with  a 
pleased  grin  ;  "  but  it's  the  rattlin'  jintlemin  that 
ye  are." 

"  Never  mind  what  I  am,  Herrick,  but  hurry  up 
with  the  livery  and  get  the  horse  stripped,"  said 
Gordon,  taking  off  his  top-coat. 

Herrick  opened  the  door  and  took  from  the  box 
under  the  seat  a  livery  coat,  and  gave  it  to  Jack,  who 
quickly  donned  it.  Jack's  coat  was  put  in  the  box 
with  his  crush  hat,  and  a  silk  hat  with  a  broad  band 
given  him  in  exchange. 

Robb,  who  was  watching  with  amazement  the 
transformation  of  the  stylish  young  man  of  fashion 
into  a  dashing  cabman,  finally  comprehended  Jack's 
purpose. 

"  It's  a  .great  lark,  Jack,"  he  said  laughingly, 
"  but  an  awful  roast  on  '  Dizzy  '." 

"  Oh  no,  it's  not,"  replied  Gordon.  "  I  bet  him 
I  would  drive  the  lady  home.  I  did  not  say  I  would 
ride  with  her  as  a  companion.  Besides,  there  is  a 
risk.  I've  got  to  secure  her  for  a  fare  or  I  will 
lose  the  bet." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  object.  I  shall  content  myself  with 
reporting  the  fact." 

"  All  right.     You  must  follow  in  another  cab." 

"  Certainly.    But  be  lively,  the  woman  is  moving." 

Gordon  mounted  the  box,  and  taking  the  reins 
drove  up  immediately  in  front  of  the  restaurant 
door. 

Herrick,  aided  by  the  conversation,  divined 
Jack's  purpose,  and  assisted  him  by  soliciting  the 
lady  as  she  issued  from  the  hotel, 


6  JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

A  cab  was  what  the  lady  wanted  and  she  entered 
it.  The  maid  was  about  to  follow  her,  when  her 
mistress  said  : 

"You  go  home  by  the  street-car,  Ellen.  I  will 
be  there  as  soon  as  you.  Wait  for  me  at  the  door." 

Then  to  Herrick  she  said  : 

"  Fifty-fourth  street." 

"  Fifty-fourth  street  and  Broadway,"  called  out 
Herrick  to  his  substitute  as  he  slammed  the  door. 
Gordon  touched  the  horse  smartly  and  drove  off  at  a 
rattling  pace,  Robb  closely  following  in  another 
cab. 

As  they  turned  into  Broadway  the  young  men 
were  standing  on  the  sidewalk  awaiting  develop- 
ments. One  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  lady. 

"  There  goes  the  woman  now,"  he  cried,  "  but  I 
do  not  see  Jack." 

A  moment  later  Robb  passed,  and  was  seen  mak- 
ing excited  gesticulations  from  the  window  and 
pointing  to  the  preceding  cab. 

"  And  there's  Robb  following,"  cried  another. 

"  Then  Jack  must  be  in  the  first  one,"  said  the 
one  who  had  spoken.  "  '  Dizzy,'  go  in  and  order 
a  half-dozen  on  ice." 

"  He's  got  the  gall  of  a  telegraph  company," 
was  '  Dizzy's  '  only  reply. 

In  the  mean  time  Gordon  drove  rapidly  up  Broad- 
way until  nearly  opposite  a  well-known  theater, 
when  he  felt  the  check-strap  vigorously  pulled,  and 
bending  down  to  receive  his  order,  he  found  his 
fare  was  endeavoring  to  attract  the  attention  of  a 
man  on  the  sidewalk  who  was  in  the  act  of  parting 
from  another. 

He  drove  close  to  the  curbstone  and  assisted  his 
fare  in  calling  the  man  wanted,  who  responded  by 
lifting  his  hat  in  a  polite,  though  pronounced, 
manner,  even  with  a  flourish,  and  went  to  the  cab 
window.  * 


AN  AMATEUR    CABMAN.  7 

"  I  have  been  searching  everywhere  for  you  since 
I  received  your  note,"  said  the  lady. 

"  I  did  not  expect  that,"  he  replied  coldly. 

"  Won't  you  get  in  ?"  she  asked.  "  I  want  to 
talk  to  you." 

"  No  ;  it's  useless,"  he  replied.  "  There  is  noth- 
ing to  talk  about.  You  have  my  ultimatum." 

This  was  said  in  so  loud  a  tone  that  Gordon 
could  not  avoid  hearing,  and  he  was  astonished 
both  at  the  tone  and  manner. 

After  a  moment's  silence,  the  lady  leaned  for- 
ward and  said  : 

"  You  know  it  is  impossible — wholly  impossible. 
Where  am  I  to  get  what  you  demand  ?  I  have 
told  you  how  I  am  circumstanced." 

"  That  is  not  my  lookout." 

"  Have  you  no  mercy  ?  " 

"  None  whatever,"  said  the  man,  without  a 
change  from  his  cold  though  courteous  manner. 

"  I  implore  you,"  continued  the  lady,  "  not  to 
push  me  to  extremes — to  have  mercy  upon  me — 
to  give  me  longer  time.  I  have  told  you  what  I 
could  and  would  do.  The  amount  is  greater  in  the 
end,  if  it  is  longer  in  payment." 
-  "  No,  I  must  have  the  amount  in  one  sum." 

"I  tell  you  it  is  simply  impossible  for  me  to  ob- 
tain it.  You  make  demands  beyond  my  ability  to 
comply.  You  know  it  well.  What  can  you  gain 
by  driving  me  to  ruin  ?  If  you  expose  me,  not 
only  will  you  not  obtain  the  sum  you  demand,  but 
you  will  have  closed  forever  a  very  considerable 
source  of  income  to  you.  As  for  this  amount  you 
might  as  well  ask  of  me  the  wealth  of  the  Van- 
derbilts." 

"  You  wear  on  your  person  to-night  three  times 
the  value  of  the  sum  I  want." 

"  You  ask  me  to  commit  a  robbery.  You  know 
the  jewels  are  not  mine. "  • 


8  JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Bah  !  you  can  pledge  them  and  conveniently 
lose  them  until  you  can  conveniently  find  them 
again." 

"  You  are  heartless.  Don't  go  too  far.  You 
may  lose  all." 

"  I  told  you  it  was  useless  to  talk.  It  is  the  same 
thing  over  again.  Now  then,  Lucy,  for  the  last  time 
I  say  to  you,  if  you  do  not  produce  the  amount  I 
demand,  forthwith  goes  the  package  to  Dr.  Sher- 
man. I'll  give  you  until — to-day  is  Tuesday — I'll 
give  you  until  Thursday  night  to  comply  with  my 
demand  ;  if  you  fail,  then  on  Friday  morning  the 
package  shall  be  in  his  hands." 

"  I  beg — I  entreat — I — 

"  Now  please  stop  that.  I'll  not  have  another 
word  with  you  on  the  subject." 

He  stepped  back  to  show  that  on  his  part  the 
interview  was  ended. 

The  lady  leaned  so  far  forward  that  her  head 
was  entirely  out  of  the  window,  and  she  spoke  in 
tones  of  intense  passion  : 

"  You  have  gone  too  far,  Cyril  Renfrew.  1  will 
not  give  you  one  penny  more.  Do  your  worst.  It 
means  ruin  to  me,  but  death  to  you.  So  surely  as 
you  expose  me,  so  surely  will  I  -kill  you." 

The  man  on  the  pavement  laughed  incredulously, 
and  lifting  his  hat  said  : 

"  Drive  on,  cabbie." 

Cabbie  did  drive  on,  and  in  intense  indignation 
and  amazement.  He  had  recognized  the  man  as 
an  actor  of  the  second  class  playing  at  one  of  the 
Broadway  theaters,  who  had  an  unsavory  reputa- 
tion for  gallantry. 

"  Cyril  Renfrew',"  he  muttered.  "  Cyril  Renfrew 
indeed  !  More  likely  John  Stubbs.  So  this  is 
Cyril  Renfrew's  measure,  is  it  ?  A  blackmailer.  I've 
often  wondered  where  he  got  his  money  to  support 
his  pretensions.  But  who  is  she  ?  Lucy.  But 


AN  AMATEUR    CAB  MAX.  9 

Lucy  what  ?  Hang  it  !  I'd  like  to  help  the  poor 
creature.  But  how  ?  I  cannot  speak  to  her  in  this 
disguise,  for  I  cannot  explain.  I  don't  care  what 
the  merits  of  the  case  may  be,  I'd  like  the  chance 
of  choking  this  rascal.  I  presume  the  package  is 
a  package  of  letters  she  has  written  him  in  all 
trustfulness,  and  now  he  is  threatening  to  use  them 
to  her  ruin  if  she  does  not  give  up  liberally.  I  will 
help  her,  hang  me  if  I  don't.  I  will  find  out  where 
she  lives  to-night,  and  call  upon  her  to-morrow." 

Thus  were  his  thoughts  running,  when  he  was 
recalled  to  his  amateur  cab-driving  by  feeling  the 
check-strap  again.  This  time  the  lady  wanted  to 
alight,  and  so  he  drove  to  the  curbstone  ;  before  he 
could  descend  from  his  box,  she  had  opened  the 
door  and  stepped  out..  She  thrust  a  bill  in  his 
hand,  saying  : 

"  Here  is  more  than  enough  for  your  fare." 

"  But  this  is  not  Fifty-fourth  street,"  he  said  in 
surprise. 

"  It  is  as  far  as  I  am  going,"  she  replied,  and  with- 
out waiting  further,  she  darted  down  the  cross- 
street,  in  the  direction  of  Fifth  Avenue. 

Gordon  leaped  on  the  box.  He  had  crossed  to 
the  upper  corner,  and  so,  before  he  could  follow 
her,  he  was  compelled  to  turn  his  horse  and  thus  lost 
time.  When  he  did  get  into  the  cross- street,  his 
late  fare  had  vanished.  He  drove  rapidly  to  Fifth 
Avenue,  but  failing  to  obtain  a  glimpse  of  her, 
returned  to  the  place  where  he  had  taken  the 
cab. 

Gordon  had  barely  time  to  exchange  the  livery 
for  his  own  clothes,  when  Robb  drove  up.  He 
tumbled  out,  laughing  heartily. 

"  By  George,  Jack,  it  is  hard  lines,  but  you've 
lost  the  wine." 

"  Why  ?  "  He  had  forgotten  that  Robb  had  fol- 
lowed him. 


10          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Why  ?  "  repeated  Robb.  "  Because  you  did 
not  drive  her  home,  that's  why.  She  dodged  you. 
I  saw  her  come  out  from  under  a  high  stoop  after 
you  passed,  and  scud  down  the  street  like  a  scared 
cat.  She  did  not  propose  to  be  tracked  by  the 
cabman  who  drove  her." 

"  I  wish  you  had  followed  her,"  said  Gordon. 
"  Did  you  know  the  fellow  she  stopped  to  talk  with 
on  Broadway  ? " 

"Yes,  Cyril  Renfrew.  He's  a  fine  whelp — uni- 
versally detested — so  much  so  that  his  brother 
actors  will  not  associate  with  him.  She  must  be 
connected  with  the  profession  after  all." 

"  No,"  replied  Jack,  "  I  am  now  convinced  she 
is  not." 

"  What  did  she  have  to.  say  to  him  ? " 

"  Nothing  pleasant,  I  should  judge,  by  their  tone." 

"Well,"  replied  Robb,  "  it's  a  curious  adventure. 
But,  my  boy,  you  have  lost  the  wine." 

"Yes,"  Jack  admitted.  "We'll  find  the  boys 
and  buy  it.  Here,  Herrick,  here's  a  bill  the  lady 
gave  me."  He  looked  at  it.  "  Hello  !  you're  in 
luck  ;  it's  a  five-dollar  bill — two  more  than  you 
expected.  Good-night." 

He  joined  his  friends,  and  over  the  wine  made 
merry  ;  but  he  said  not  a  word  to  indicate  he 
had  heard  the  conversation  between  his  fare  and 
Renfrew. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MR.  RENFREW  AT  HOME. 

ON  the  morning  following  his  interview  with 
Lucy  on  the  street,  Cyril  Renfrew  rose  late. 
After  a  leisurely  bath,  he  contemplated  the 
idea  of  breakfast,  but  as  he  had  dined  late  and  lib- 
erally in  the  small  hours,  he  dismissed  it  with  a 
grimace  of  disgust. 

On  the  table  in  the  center  of  the  room  he  found 
a  manuscript.  He  took  it  up  and  examined  it. 

"  Ah  !  My  part  in  the  new  comedy,"  he  said 
aloud.  "  Rot,  I  expect.  They  never  give  me  any- 
thing good  if  they  can  help  it.  Well,  it  must  be 
studied." 

He  drew  up  an  easy-chair  to  the  window. 

The  apartments  occupied  by  the  actor  were  ele- 
gantly, even  luxuriously,  furnished.  There  was 
much  curious  and  rare  bric-a-brac  about,  of  the 
kind  one  only  collects  after  many  years,  and  argu- 
ing for  the  possessor  no  little  taste  and  knowledge. 
There  were  pictures  on  the  walls  evidencing  artis- 
tic appreciation.  . 

The  man  himself  was  certainly  over  thirty,  tall, 
slim,  and  dark.  His  face  was  unquestionably  a 
handsome  one,  though  a  keen  physiognomist  would 
not  have  found  it  attractive.  Evidently  giving 
much  attention  to  his  apparel,  there  was  still  some- 
thing outre  about  it.  Striking  as  he  was,  he 
was  too  pronounced  to  be  refined,  and  too  preten- 
tious to  be  gentlemanlike. 

The  apartments  were  in  a  house  designed  for  the 


12  JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

occupancy  of  bachelors  alone  ;  consequently  there 
were  few  visitors  of  the  other  sex,  and  such  as 
there  were  created  remark  and  unpleasant  com- 
ment. 

That  is  the  reason  why  the  janitor  so  particu- 
larly noted  the  appearance  of  a  lady,  closely  veiled, 
who  inquired  for  the  location  of  Mr.  Renfrew's 
room.  He  remembered  also,  as  he  told  upon  a 
subsequent  interesting  occasion,  that  it  was  near 
the  hour  of  twelve,  for  his  wife  had  called  him  to 
his  mid-day  meal  just  as  he  turned  from  the  lady, 
after  having  ascended  the  stairs  with  her  and 
pointed  out  the  door. 

Renfrew,  too,  might  have  told  upon  the  same 
occasion,  if  he  could  have  done  so,  that  it  was  not 
far  from  the  noon  hour,  for  a  little  French  clock 
on  the  mantel  chimed  the  half-hour  after  twelve, 
just  as  a  rap  on  the  door  caused  him  to  call  out, 
"  Enter  !  '' 

The  door  opened,  and  a  closely  veiled  lady 
walked  in. 

The  actor,  rising  quickly  from  his  semi-recum- 
bent position,  bowed  politely,  for  it  was  his  habit  to 
make  on  all  occasions  the  pretense  of  great  deference 
to  the  weaker  sex.  The  lady  threw  up  her  veil,  and 
he  discovered  the  features  of  the  lady  with  whom 
he  had  talked  the  evening  previous.  That  the 
actor  was  not  pleased  by  the  visit,  he  showed  by 
the  heavy  frown  wrinkling  his  b'row. 

"  You  honor  me  with  an  early  visit,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  replied  his  visitor  ;  "  I  determined  to 
make  one  more  appeal  to  you — to  make  one  more 
effort  to  save  myself  from  the  ruin  confronting  me." 

"You  take  a  despondent  view  of  things  this 
morning,"  he  replied.  "  Since  you  are  here,  per- 
mit me  to  offer  you  a  seat." 

He  placed  a  chair  before  her,  but  as  she  was 
about  to  seat  herself  in  it,  checked  her,  saying  : 


MR.  RENFRE W  AT  HOME.  1 3 

"  It  is  proper  for  me  to  say  to  you  before  you  sit 
down,  and  before  I  close  the  door,  that,  in  accept- 
ing my  hospitality,  you  are  seriously  compromising 
yourself." 

The  lady  bent  upon  him  an  indignant  look. 

"  I  have  suffered  much  injury  at  your  hands, 
Jacob,  but  I  think  that  in  my  distress  you  might 
spare  me  your  insults." 

"  Upon  my  word  no  insult  was  intended.  I 
spoke  but  the  truth — 

"  The  truth,"  she  scornfully  interrupted. 

"  Yes,  the  truth.  I  suppose  it  is  not  testimony 
as  to  the  correctness  of  my  life,  when  I  say  that 
any  woman  that  visits  my  apartments  is  compro- 
mised. But  I  should  at  least  be  given  credit  for 
the  sincerity  of  my  motives  in  warning  you,  before 
retreat  in  good  order  is  made  impossible." 

"  What  is  the  danger  of  compromising  myself  in 
this  manner,  compared  with  the  ruin  you  are  so 
cruelly  forcing  upon  me  ?  " 

"  I  presume  I  interpret  that  remark  correctly 
when  I  assume  that  the  interview  is  to  continue 
and  the  door  is  to  be  closed  ?" 

She  answered  by  seating  herself  in  the  chair  he 
had  placed  for  her. 

He  closed  the  door. 

"  Now  then,"  he  said  lightly,  "the  consequences 
be  on  your  own  fair  head.  If  scandal  smirches 
your  garments,  the  fault  will  not  rest  upon  my  con- 
science. Having  performed  my  duty,  let  us  to 
business.  To  what  do  I  owe  the  honor  of  this 
early  visit  ?  " 

"  You  must  surely  know,"  said  the  lady  impa- 
tiently. "  There  can  be  but  one  thing.  Oh,  Cyril ! 
I  beg  you  not  to  drive  me  to  exposure.  Be  care- 
ful !  Have  some  pity  on  me  !  " 

"  '  Still  harping  on  my  daughter,  eh  ? '  " 

"  How  can  you  be  so  heartless — so  cruel  ?  Surely 


14          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

I  have  not  wronged  you  in  the  smallest  way,  in  all 
my  life." 

"'  Necessity  knows  no  law.'  'Where  the  devil 
drives  needs  must.'  But  I'll  not  vex  you  with  old 
saws.  It  is  because  I  must  have  that  amount  be- 
fore the  end  of  the  week,  or  be  ruined  myself." 

"  But,  Jacob — ' 

"  Please  do  not  repeat  that  plebeian  name 
again." 

"  Well,  then,  Cyril,  I  have  told  you,  and  most 
truthfully,  that  it  is  utterly  impossible  for  me  to 
obtain  it." 

"  Borrow  it." 

"Borrow?  Where  am  I  to  borrow  so  large  a 
sum  as  two  thousand  dollars  ?  From  whom  ?" 

"  A  young  lady  so  beautiful,  and  moving  in  such 
wealthy  circles,  should  have  no  difficulty." 

"  You  mock  me." 

"  Indeed,  I  do  not.  Beauty  in  distress  is  power- 
ful." 

"  You  know  I  can  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  I 
have  but  one  source  of  income,  and  that  the  gener- 
ous allowance  Dr.  Sherman  makes  me.  You  have 
drawn  so  heavily  upon  it  this  quarter  that  I  have 
been  compelled  to  run  in  debt  with  my  dressmaker. 
And  I  tremble  lest  Dr.  Sherman  should  hear  of  it. 
I  told  you  long  ago  that  he  had  forbidden  me  to 
exceed  my  allowance  or  to  contract  debts." 

"  There  are  certain  young  and  charming  ladies 
of  my  acquaintance,  with  but  one-half  your  beauty, 
who  contrive  to  add  to  their  incomes  very  consid- 
erable amounts." 

Jhe  lady  looked  upon  him  inquiringly,  but  saw 
upon  his  face  the  sardonic  reflection  of  his  infa- 
mous meaning. 

Intense  scorn  and  loathing  were  depicted  upon 
her  countenance.  She  leaned  forward,  her  face 
fairly  livid  with  anger. 


MR.  RENFRE W  AT  HOME.  15 

"  You  wretch  !  "  she  cried,  "  I  would  not  have 
believed  there  could  exist  a  man  so  despicable — so 
vile  !  " 

"  See  here,"  he  exclaimed,  stung  into  brutality 
by  her  withering  contempt,  "  none  of  that.  You 
have  got  to  get  that  money,  and  I  don't  care  how. 
It  will  not  do  for  an  adventuress  who  lives  by  her 
dishonesty  to  fling  mud.  You  must  not  fling  it  at 
me." 

"  Blackmailer,"  she  hissed  at  him  as  she  stood 
erect. 

"  Yes,  blackmailer  if  you  please,"  he  replied 
angrily.  "  But  who  are  you  who  assume  so  much 
virtue  ?  " 

"  A  very  unhappy  woman,  who  when  a  poor, 
weak,  unsophisticated  girl  was  urged  into  a  wrong — 
a  crime,  by  you — a  crime  which  she  has  repented 
every  one  of  her  miserable  days,  and  who  is  too 
cowardly  to  face  the  consequences  of  exposure." 

"  I  want  no  maudlin  sentiment,"  said  Cyril. 
"The  facts  are  plain.  We  conspired  together  to 
deceive  that  old  fool.  I  jeopardized  my  own 
safety  and  reputation,  and  I  propose  to  have  my 
share  of  the  plunder.  Do  you  suppose  I  put  my 
head  in  the  lion's  mouth,  that  you  might  revel  in 
luxury  and  wealth  and  I  not  to  share  in  it  ?" 

"  You — you  jeopardized  yourself  !  Yes,  perhaps 
you  did,  but  you  took  good  care  to  recover  all 
your  letters  and  all  evidence  against  yourself, 
while  retaining  all  of  mine.  You  have  had  your 
share — all  of  it.  I  conspired  with  a  jackal — a 
hyena." 

"  Your  tongue  is  sharp,  my  beauty,"  returned 
the  actor.  "  But  this  interview  has  lasted  too  long. 
I  will  end  it.  To-morrow  night  by  twelve  I  must 
have  two  thousand  dollars,  and,  by  Heaven  !  I  will 
have  it.  No  pleadings,  no  tears,  no  bad  names 
will  swerve  me  from  my  purpose." 


1 6       *  JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  You  must  look  elsewhere  than  to  me  for  it.  1 
will  not,  because  I  can  not,  give  you  one  cent." 

"  Then  the  consequences  be  on  your  own  head. 
Friday  morning  your  letters  and  a  statement  of  the 
fraud  will  go  to  Dr.  Sherman." 

"  You  will  commit  a  murder,"  said  the  girl. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Twelve  o'clock  to-morrow  night  will  find  me 
dead.  I  will  not  live  to  witness  my  disgrace.  The 
act  will  be  mine,  the  responsibility  yours." 

"  Bah  !  You  were  going  to  kill  me  last  night. 
Now  it  is  yourself." 

"  Then  it  was  passion  ;  now  it  is  purpose." 

"  Neither  of  your  threats  frightens  me.  You  will 
end  up  by  sending  the  money." 

"  Never,"  cried  the  girl  passionately.  "  The 
end  must  come.  As  well  now  as  ever.  To  live 
like  this,  with  the  fear  of  exposure  on  the  one  side 
and  dread  of  extortion  on  the  other,  is  worse  than 
death.  Then  there  is  the  remorse.  Oh,  how  bjt- 
terly  one  pays  for  a  single  false  step  !  And  you,  the 
only  blood  relative  I  have  on  earth — that  you 
should  treat  me  so  !  " 

"  Oh,  let  us  have  no  acting  !  " 

She  faced  him  indignantly,  as  if  about  to  say 
something  more,  but  restraining  herself  she  crossed 
the  room  and,  placing  her  hand  upon  the  knob  of 
the  door,  stood  a  moment,  her  head  bent.  Then 
turning  upon  the  actor  a  look  of  deep  earnestness, 
she  said  in  tones  low,  intense  and  thrilling  : 

"  Jacob  Myers,  for  the  wrongs  you  have  done 
me  these  five  years,  for  the  crime  you  urged  me 
and  led  me  into  committing,  for  the  wicked  end 
you  are  forcing  me  to  make,  may  Heaven  curse  you 
to  the  end  of  your  days — may  every  pleasure  pall  on 
your  lips,  may  failure  attend  you  in  everything, 
may  your  end  be  so  sudden  that  you  can  not  pray 
for  forgiveness  !  " 


MR.  RENFREW  AT  HOME.  I? 

She  drew  the  veil  over  her  face,  opened  the  door, 
and  passed  out. 

Renfrew  watched  the  door  close,  and  then  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders  said  : 

"  How  she  would  capture  the  house,  if  she  could 
do  that  on  the  stage  !  " 


CHAPTER  III 

A    MODERN    KNIGHT    ERRANT. 

ABOUT  the  time  that  the  young  lady  he  had 
driven  the  night  previous  was  making  futile 
effort  to  soften  the  hard  heart  of  Renfrew, 
Jack  Gordon  was  giving  serious  thought  to  her 
situation. 

His  sympathies  had  been  greatly  stirred,  and  he 
was  quite  young  enough  to  have  the  Quixotic 
desire  to  rescue  this  lorn  and  handsome  damsel 
from  the  perils  by  which  she  was  surrounded. 

He  had  nothing  to  do.  Beyond  determining 
upon  the  cut  of  his  trowsers  and  the  color  of  his 
coat  he  had  no  serious  duties  in  life.  A  prudent 
and  sagacious  father  had  made  this  condition*for 
him.  During  thirty  years  this  father  had  labored 
industriously,  amassed  largely,  invested  safely, 
disposed  of  his  business  wisely,  and  then  most  con- 
siderately died,  so  that  his  son,  at  an  age  when  life 
still  has  illusions,  might  spend  lavishly. 

The  son  was  not  without  ability,  and  was  indeed 
well  educated.  Had  necessity  pricked  him,  he 
could  have  made  a  figure  in  any  one  of  the  worlds 
an  American  may  enter.  With  his  money  he  had 
inherited  the  strong  virile  sense  and  shrewdness  of 
his  father  ;  humor,  enthusiasm,  and  imagination 
from  his  mother,  who  had  died  so  early  he  could 
not  recollect  her. 

That  he  was  a  young  man  of  fashion  and  an  idler 
of  the  town,  was  due  more  to  the  fact  that  his 
father  had  failed  to  urge  him  to  a  profession  or  an 
18 


A    MODKRN  KNIGHT  ERRANT.  19 

occupation,  than  to  predisposition — more  to  cir- 
cumstances and  associations  than  to  deliberate 
adoption.  At  the  age  of  twenty-six  the  daily 
routine  of  dressing  and  club  lounging  had  become 
irksome,  the  sports  he  and  his  intimates  indulged 
had  begun  to  pall,  and  he  was  seriously  contemplat- 
ing taking  to  his  books  again.  He  had  tried  all 
the  means  of  extracting  pleasure  from  life  pursued 
by  his  kind,  and  was  doubting  whether  real  pleasure 
was  found  in  the  effort.  He  had  aspirations,  feeble 
as  yet,  for  something  better. 

His  caprice  for  driving  a  cab  at  night  was  the 
outcome  of  his  idleness  and  weariness.  It  was 
outside  of  the  routine  which  was  beginning  to  chafe. 
He  had  kept  it  a  secret  from  his  friends,  not  be- 
cause he  was  ashamed  of  it,  but  because  it  was 
something  he  could  enjoy  apart  from  the  rest — 
alone. 

The  idea  of  rescuing  the  young  lady  fitted  into 
his  humor.  Its  novelty  was  fascinating  ;  the  diffi- 
culty of  proceeding  attractive  and  interesting.  He 
did  not  know  who  she  was,  where  she  lived,  what 
her  name  was,  what  her  antecedents  were,  and 
whether  or  not  she  was  an  adventuress  quite  as 
much  in  the  wrong  as  Renfrew.  These  made  diffi- 
culties he  burned  to  overcome. 

But  under  all  was  the  fact,  that  the  girl  had 
awakened  in  him  a  great  interest,  had  excited  his 
sympathies.  Had  he  not  been  idle  he  would  not 
have  nursed  the  desire  to  assist  her,  but  dismissed 
it  with  a  sigh  and  a  wish  ;  but  being  idle  he  nursed 
it  into  a  resolve. 

Then  it  occurred  to  him  that  in  an  effort  to  assist 
her  he  might  involve  himself  in  a  scandal,  perhaps 
a  crime.  Discretion  whispered  to  him  to  drop  the 
whole  matter,  but  the  idea  of  danger  promised  ex- 
citement. 

As  he  lingered  over  his  breakfast  he  balanced 


20  JACK  GORDON,   KX1GHT  A'A'A'.-i  N7\ 

inclination  against  discretion,  and  finally,  with  a 
laugh  having  the  quality  of  apology  in  it,  decided 
in  favor  of  inclination,  and  arose  from  the  table 
determined  to  enter  upon  the  enterprise  at  once. 

Indolent  from  habit,  he  was  capable  of  great 
energy  when  moved  to  it.  A  rapid  review  of  the 
conversation  he  had  overheard  the  night  before, 
and  a  contemplation  of  the  end  he  sought,  showed 
him  how  absurd,  after  all,  was  his  enterprise.  What 
did  he  know  ?  Who  was  she  ?  Lucy.  That  was  all. 
And  who  was  Dr.  Sherman  ?  And  what  relation 
did  Lucy  bear  to  him  ?  And  the  package  ?  What 
was  the  package  ?  Letters  presumably.  It  was  all 
very  vague. 

He  walked  around  Madison  Square  while  he 
tried  to  aid  himself  by  putting  the  facts  in  a  nar- 
rative form. 

"  Here,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  is  a  man,  an  actor 
named  Cyril  Renfrew,  who  has  in  his  possession  a 
package  of  letters,  presumably,  written,  presumably, 
by  a  certain  Lucy — who  is  a  devilish  handsome 
girl,  by  the  way — which  he  threatens  to  .send  to  Dr. 
Sherman — and  who  that  duffer  is  I  don't  know — if 
she  don't  give  him  money,  amount  unknown  ;  to 
send  these  letters  to  Dr.  Sherman, — I  wonder  who 
that  fellow  is  ?  I  presume  I  can  find  out — is  to 
ruin  her.  He  has  blackmailed  her  in  the  past.  I 
mustn't  forget  that,  for  it  is  a  strong  point.  This 
Renfrew  is  already  liable.  Good  !  There  is  one 
pin  in.  Now,  of  all  the  characters  in  this  little 
drama  I  only  know  who  Cyril  Renfrew  is.  If  Dr. 
Sherman  is  anybody,  I  ought  to  be  able  to  find  him 
out.  Then,  perhaps,  I  can  discover  Lucy.  They 
must  have  a  close  relation  of  some  kind,  if  a  pack- 
age of  her  letters  in  his  hands  can  ruin  her.  Then 
if  I  find  that  out  I  can  reach  her  and  offer  my 
services.  That  shall  be  the  programme." 

He  set  out  upon  it  immediately.     But  a  visit  to 


A    MODERN  KNIGHT  ERRANT.  21 

the  clubs,  to  the  hotels,  to  the  bank  parlors,  to  men 
largely  acquainted  with  the  affairs  of  New  York 
and  its  people,  failed  to  give  him  the  slightest  clue 
to  Dr.  Sherman.  No  one  knew  of  such  a  person, 
and  no  one  he  inquired  of  knew  a  person  named 
Lucy  Sherman. 

"  Well,"  he  said  in  one  of  his  walks,  "  if  I  can't 
find  Dr.  Sherman,  I  can't  find  the  Lucy.  I'll  have 
to  abandon  the  programme.  I  can  find  Renfrew, 
but  he  won't  tell  me  if  I  ask  ;  besides,  I  would 
have  to  confess  I  didn't  know  the  girl.  13  y 
George  !  That  is  an  idea." 

He  stopped  short  to  consider  it.  Finally  he 
turned,  and  walking  briskly,  said,  "  That's  what  I 
will  do.  I'll  go  straight  to  Renfrew  and  demand 
the  package — I  will  frighten  him  into  yielding 
it  to  me.  I  can  do  it  if  1  am  careful." 

He  turned  into  a  fashionable  hotel  much  fre- 
quented by  all  kinds  of  people,  including  actors. 
Stepping  up  to  the  desk,  he  asked  the  clerk  if  he 
knew  where  Renfrew's  apartments  were,  and  re- 
ceiving the  desired  information,  set  out  at  once, — 
and  about  the  time  the  lady  was  descending  the 
stairs  on  leaving  Renfrew,  crushed  by  her  failure. 

Gordon  was  quite  sensible  of  the  difficulty  of  his 
undertaking;  of  the  tact,  diplomacy,  and  adroit- 
ness requisite  for  success.  He  was  by  no  means 
certain  that  he  would  succeed.  But  if  he  was  to 
accomplish  anything,  it  must  be  done  quickly,  for 
the  lady  in  distress  had  but  two  days  of  grace,  and 
he  was  possessed  of  an  undefined  fear  that  if  he 
could  not  relieve  her  in  time,  something  tragical 
would  occur. 

So  he  hurried  on,  his  only  plan  that  of  frighten- 
ing Renfrew  by  showing  him  that  he  had  already 
made  himself  liable  in  the  eyes  of  the  law. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A      GAME      OF      BLUFF. 

RENFREW  only  knew  Gordon  as  one  of  the 
fashionable  young  men  of  the  day.  He  had 
hardly  recovered  from  the  effects  of  his  stormy 
interview  with  the  unknown  Lucy,  when  Gordon's 
card  was  handed  him.  He  observed  it  with  some 
apprehension — a  vague  premonition  of  danger — 
though  why  he  could  not  have  told. 

When  Gordon  entered  he  greeted  him  with  a 
cordiality  akin  to  effusiveness.  But  Jack  did  not 
respond  in  a  like  manner.  He  assumed  that  air  of 
reserve,  impassiveness  and  imperturbability  which 
he  had  cultivated  assiduously  all  his  manhood  days, 
as  attributes  of  a  man  of  the  world.  These  airs 
served  him  well  in  his  encounter  with  the  actor. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Renfrew,"  he  replied  in  his  coldest 
manner,  "  you  would  better  reserve  your  cordiality 
until  you  have  learned  my  mission." 

Then  inserting  his  single  glass  in  his  eye  with 
great  deliberation,  he  gazed  steadily  at  Renfrew 
without  making  further  remark. 

The  actor  visibly  paled  under  this  inspection, 
feeling  exceedingly  uncomfortable — indeed,  he 
showed  it  in  his  manner. 

"  Easily  frightened,"  was  Gordon's  mental  com- 
ment. "  Cheeky,  but  not  brave." 

"  Ah,  Renfrew,"  he  continued  aloud,  with  just 
the  suspicion  of  a  drawl  in  his  voice,  "  you  are  up 
to  a  very  nasty  game.  I  do  not  propose  to  have 
many  words  with  you.  I  am  commissioned  by  the 


A    GAME   OF  BLUFF.  23 

lady  whose  name  I  shall  not  insult  by  mentioning 
it  in  your  presence,  but  whom  I  shall  distinguish  as 
the  one  with  whom  you  talked  last  night — " 

"  I  talked  with  a  number  last  night,"  broke  in 
Renfrew,  who  had  recovered  possession  of  himself 
in  a  great  degree.  "  You  will  have  to  be  more 
specific." 

"  You  will  be  pleased  to  wait  until  I  have  com- 
pleted my  sentence,"  replied  Gordon.  "Whom  I 
shall  distinguish  as  the  one  you  talked  with  on 
Broadway  last  night,  through  a  cab  window.  I  am 
commissioned  by  Lucy — I  beg  the  lady's  pardon, 
for  I  did  not  propose  to  mention  the  lady's  name 
in  your  contemptible  presence — I  am  commissioned, 
I  say,  to  demand  that  package." 

Renfrew  was  astonished.  Within  the  hour  Lucy 
had  left  him.  Neither  at  the  last  interview,  nor  at 
any  previous  interview,  had  she  demanded  the  re- 
turn of  her  letters.  This  was  a  new  line  of  attack. 
Evidently  she  had  gone  straight  from  him  to  this 
man. 

"  Really,"  he  said  with  an  impudent  laugh,  "  the 
lady  of  whose  name  you  are  so  careful  has  selected 
a  singular  messenger." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Jack  calmly.  "  She  selected  one 
she  knew  would  succeed  in  performing  the  mission." 

Renfrew  looked  upon  the  calm,  stalwart  figure, 
and  felt  uneasy.  He  looked  into  the  face  before 
him,  and  it  was  impassive  to  the  last  degree. 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  "  he  finally  sneered.  "  She  did  not 
inform  me,  when  she  was  here  an  hour  ago  or  less, 
that  she  had  chosen  a  representative  to  conduct 
the  business  we  have  between  us." 

Jack  needed  now  all  his  impassiveness  and  con- 
trol. He  appreciated  fully  the  danger  he  stood  in 
of  betraying  that  he  was  not  in  the  confidence  of 
the  unknown  lady.  What  had  occurred  between 
her  and  the  actor  ?  Had  they  composed  matters  ? 


24          JACK  GORDON,  K.\IGHT  ERRANT. 

Had  the  actor  granted  her  longer  time  or  accepted 
her  proposition  to  pay  in  smaller  sums  ?  If  he  had, 
then  he  was  not  only  likely  to  make  a  fool  of  him- 
self, but  to  seriously  complicate  affairs  for  the  one 
he  was  trying  to  assist.  Perhaps  she  had  brought 
the  actor  the  money  he  demanded  ?  If  she  had, 
then  he  could  go  on  and  demand  the  letters.  He 
must  be  wary,  and  carefully  pick  his  words. 

"  May  I  ask,"  inquired  Renfrew  with  mock  po- 
liteness, "  what  relations  you  bear  to  the  lady  that 
she  confides  so  delicate  a  mission  to  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  you  may  ask,"  rejoined  Jack,  seeking  to 
prolong  the  scene,  in  the  hopes  that  Renfrew  would 
say  something  indicating  what  had  passed  between 
them.  "  Yes,  you  may  ask  and  I  may  reply,  that  it 
is  not  the  same  relation  borne  by  Dr.  Sherman." 

"That  does  not  answer  my  question,"  said  Ren- 
frew with  a  bluster. 

"  Perhaps,"  replied  Jack  with  calm  insolence, 
"  but  it  is  the  only  answer  you  will  receive." 

"  Now  see  here,"  exclaimed  Renfrew,  growing 
excited  and  throwing  his  part,  which  until  this  time 
he  had  held  in  his  hand,  on  the  table.  "  You  have 
undertaken  a  contract  you  can't  perform.  You  are 
Lucy's  representative,  are  you  ?  Well,  let  me  tell 
you  that  the  agent  can  not  succeed  where  the  prin- 
cipal has  failed.  She  came  with  tears,  entreaties 
and  heroics  ;  you  come  to  bulldoze.  Well,  you  will 
fail  as  she  did." 

The  way  for  Jack  was  clear  now.  Renfrew  in 
his  excitement  had  given  him  knowledge  of  his 
grounds. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  will,"  replied  Gordon.  "I 
would  not  be  too  sure.  I  didn't  come  here  to  fail." 

He  crossed  the  room  to  the  door  deliberately,  and 
locking  it,  took  out  the  key  and  placed  it  in  his 
pocket.  Then  he  placed  himself  in  front  of  the 
door  communicating  with  the  rear  room,  which  was 


A    GAME    OF  BLUFF.  25 

Renfrew's  sleeping  apartment,  and  looked  calmly 
at  the  actor. 

"  What  are  you  up  to  ?  "  asked  Renfrew,  angrily. 

"  I  am  going  to  make  you  give  up  that  pack- 
age," answered  Gordon,  carefully  adjusting  his 
glass,  with  a  manner  Lester  Wallack  might  have 
envied. 

"  Now,  my  young  elude,"  said  Renfrew,  both  an- 
gry and  frightened,  "  you  unlock  that  door  and 
go  out." 

"  No,"  replied  Gordon.  "  I  don't  intend  to  open 
that  door  and  go  out  until  it  pleases  me.  If  I  do, 
it  will  be  to  take  you  with  me  and  hand  you  over 
as  a  blackmailer  to  the  police,  of  whom  there  are 
several  on  the  stairs." 

"  Do  you  want  to  ruin  her  reputation  ?"  exclaimed 
the  actor,  thoroughly  convinced  that  Gordon  had 
come  from  Lucy  because  of  the  use  of  the  word  she 
had  flung  at  him  in  her  anger. 

"  No,"  said  Gordon.  "  It  is  you  who  want  to  do 
that,  and  I  don't  intend  you  shall.  Or  if  you  do 
that,  it  shall  be  after  you  are  in  prison." 

Renfrew,  under  the  impulse  of  intense  anger, 
suddenly  sprang  from  his  seat  and  rushed  at  Gor- 
don with  a  blow,  which  the  young  man  dexterously 
avoided,  and,  catching  his  assailant  with  a  grip  and 
a  twist  familiar  to  all  expert  wrestlers,  landed  the 
older  man  on  his  back. 

"  Don't  try  any  of  that  with  me,"  said  Gordon, 
holding  him  down  with  ease.  "  It  won't  pay.  You 
will  hurt  yourself."  Then  releasing  his  grip,  he 
added,  "  Get  up." 

Renfrew,  who  had  realized  in  the  brief  struggle 
the  superior  strength  of  the  young  man  and  that  he 
was  no  match  for  him,  got  up  sullenly  and  walked 
to  his  chair,  where  he  stood  glaring  at  his  visitor, 
who  was  coolly  adjusting  his  coat,  disarranged  by 
his  efforts. 


26  JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  give  it  up  with- 
out value  received  ?  "  the  actor  said,  at  length. 

"Yes.  It's  the  only  way  you  can  keep  out  of  prison." 

"  But  1  must  know  more  about  your  relations  to 
the  girl  before  I  treat  with  you." 

"  You  do  not  need  to  know  anything.  All  you 
have  to  do  is  to  hand  over  that  package." 

"  Well,  1  won't  do  it." 

"Ah  !  "  said  Jack,  taking  out  his  watch.  "  I'll 
give  you  exactly  three  minutes  by  this  watch  to 
make  up  your  mind  what  you  will  do.  Then,  if 
you  refuse.  I'll  determine  whether  I  will  hide  you 
so  you  can  not  stand,  or  pull  you  downstairs  to  the 
police.  Are  you  ready  ?  Wait  till  the  second-hand 
gets  at  the  proper  place.  Now." 

Renfrew  glared  at  him.  The  absence  of  anger 
or  emotion  on  the  part  of  his  visitor,  his  quiet  de- 
termination as  well  as  his  great  strength,  confused 
and  alarmed  the  actor. 

"  One  minute  is  gone,"  said  Gordon  with  his  eye 
on  the  second-hand. 

Renfrew  thought  he  knew  all  the  surroundings 
of  the  girl,  but  the  introduction  of  this  man  as  her 
confidant  confounded  him.  He  knew  he  was  on 
slippery  ground. 

"  Two  minutes  are  gone." 

He  feared  that  the  girl  in  her  desperation  had 
told  this  man  everything,  and  if  so  he  was  in  dan- 
ger. He  had  counted  on  her  keeping  her  own 
secret,  and  now  by  confiding  in  another,  and  that 
other  a  man  such  as  the  one  before  him,  she  had 
escaped  and  beaten  him. 

"  Three  minutes  are  gone,"  said  Gordon,  closing 
his  watch  and  putting  it  in  his  pocket.  "  Now." 

"  I'll  give  it  up,"  said  Renfrew  sullenly. 

"  You're  sensible,"  replied  Gordon.  ''  It  is  of 
no  further  value  to  you,  and  if  you  didn't,  you 
would  be  landed  in  prison." 


A    GAMR    OF  BLUFF.  27 

Renfrew  went  to  a  cabinet  hanging  in  the  corner, 
and  unlocking  it,  took  from  it  a  package  and  opened 
it.  He  stood  with  his  back  to  his  visitor  so  that 
the  latter  could  not  well  see  what  he  was  doing. 
Gordon,  watching  him  closely,  became  convinced 
that  he  was  extracting  something  from  the  package. 

Not  until  after  he  had  wrapped  up  the  package 
again  and  closed  the  cabinet  door  did  he  present  his 
face  to  the  champion  of  the  unknown  fair  one  in  dis- 
tress. 

"  There,"  he  said  roughly,  tossing  the  package 
on  the  table.  "  You  can  restore  them  to  the  lady. 
She  may  well  reward  you  for  this  afternoon's  work. 
You  are  entitled  to  her  favors  for  your  service." 

"  I  presume  you  mean  that  as  an  insult  to  both 
the  lady  and  myself,"  replied  Gordon,  as  he  picked 
up  the  package  from  the  table  and  untied  it.  "  But 
it  is  not  in  your  power — it  is  beyond  your  capacity — 
to  insult  any  one." 

Renfrew  did  not  reply,  but  watched  Gordon 
stealthily.  As  he  supposed,  Jack  found  a  number 
of  letters  in  a  female  hand.  He  carefully  counted 
them.  When  he  had  finished,  he  counted  them 
again. 

"  Give  me  the  rest  of  the  papers,"  he  demanded. 

Taken  off  his  guard  by  the  sudden  demand,  the 
actor  replied  : 

"She  doesn't  know  how  many  there  are." 

"  I  do  ;  and  I  want  them." 

"  How  many  were  there  ?  "  sneered  Renfrew. 

"  Don't  trifle  with  me,"  said  Gordon.  "  I'm 
growing  angry.  If  you  don't  give  them  me  at 
once  I'll  break  that  cabinet  open  and  take  them, — 
not  only  what  I  want,  but  all.  the  letters  of  other 
women,  and  end  your  whole  blackmailing  business." 

"  Would  you  commit  a  burglary  ?  " 

"  Yes,  on  such  a  consummate  rascal  as  you  are. 
Come,  at  once  !  " 


28          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

He  took  up  his  heavy  cane,  the  handle  of  which 
'was  solid  silver,  and  stepped  up  quickly  to  the 
cabinet. 

The  actor  quickly  interposed,  and  throwing  open 
the  door  took  from  it  three  more  letters  and  a 
folded  paper,  flinging  them  at  Gordon. 

"  There,  d —  you,  take  them." 

Gordon  now  felt  that  he  had  secured  all,  and 
placing  them  with  the  others,  slowly  tied  up  the 
whole  and  put  them  in  his  pocket.  He  then  took 
his  hat,  and  going  to  the  door  unlocked  it.  As  he 
was  about  to  open  it,  Renfrew  said  : 

"You  have  triumphed  now.  But  don't  think 
you  have  done  with  me  or  that  the  girl  has." 

Jack  turned  quickly  and  said  : 

"  You  are  being  treated  very  leniently.  If  you 
speak  to  that  young  lady  again,  or  write  to  her,  or 
hold  any  communication  whatever  with  her,  you 
will  suffer  for  it." 

Then  stepping  into  the  hall,  holding  the  door 
open,  he  said  : 

"  You  are  not  dangerous,  Renfrew.  You  are  a 
fool  and  a  coward.  A  fool  for  supposing  I  would 
bring  an  officer  in  to  make  a  scandal  for  the  lady — 
a  coward  for  letting  me  bully  you.  When  next 
you  see  me  don't  presume  to  know  me  ;  if  you  do 
I  shall  be  under  the  painful  necessity  of  knocking 
you  down." 

The  actor  responded  with  a  suppressed  roar  of 
rage,  as  Gordon  passed  out  and  calmly  and  slowly 
descended  the  stairs. 

"  Now,"  thought  he,  "  to  find  the  lady  and 
restore  to  her  the  package.  And  I  must  be  expedi- 
tious." 

As  he  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  a  lady 
dressed  in  black  and  closely  veiled  stepped  through 
the  outer  door  into  the  hall.  She  looked  about 


A    GAME   OF  BLUFF.  29 

her  in  a  hesitating  manner,  as  if  not  certain  which 
way  to  go. 

The  janitor  was  not  at  his  post. 

Gordon  quickly  judged  that  she  was  young  by 
her  figure  and  movements,  for  he  could  not  see  her 
features  through  the  thick  folds  of  her  crape  veil. 

She  made  a  quick  step  or  two  forward,  when  she 
perceived  Gordon  descending  the  stairs  and  then 
stopped  suddenly  and  abruptly  presented  her  back 
to  him. 

At  this  moment  a  lad  came  forth  from  a  hidden 
recess,  and  though  she  spoke  in  a  low  voice  Jack 
heard  her  inquire  for  the  apartments  of  Mr. 
Renfrew. 

The  boy  immediately  led  the  way. 

Gordon  passed  on  to  the  outer  door  and  turned 
to  look  at  the  lady  again. 

"  I  wonder  if  that  is  the  fair  Lucy  returning  for 
a  second  attempt  ?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  If  it  is,  she 
has  a  surprise  in  store  for  her.  And  Renfrew  !  " 
He  almost  laughed  aloud.  "  But  I  don't  think  it 
is.  Lucy  was  taller  and  slighter,  I  think.  Another 
victim,  perhaps." 

By  this  time  the  lady  had  reached  the  head  of 
the  stairs.  She  turned  and  looked  back. 

Gordon  went  out  into  the  street. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  MAMA    JAMIESON." 

JACK  GORDON  walked  up  the  street  entirely 
pleased  with  himself.  His  Quixotic  enterprise 
had  terminated  in  the  most  successful  manner. 
Now  that  it  had  been  accomplished,  it  did  not 
appear  one-half  as  foolish  and  absurd  as  it  did  in 
the  morning  at  breakfast,  when  he  took  counsel  of 
his  fears.  The  manner  in  which  he  had  bullied 
Renfrew  into  yielding  up  the  letters  increased  his 
own  respect  for  himself,  though  he  admitted  that 
after  all  Renfrew  was  very  miserable  stuff.  Over 
such  a  coward  the  triumph  was  not  so  great  as  it 
would  have  been  over  one  who  had  made  strong- 
er resistance.  Yet  he  supposed  the  truth  was 
the  actor  was  not  without  intelligence,  and  saw 
clearly  that  he  was  upon  untenable  ground  the 
moment  he  had  a  man  to  cope  with  and  not  a 
woman  alone,  on  whose  fear  and  silence  he  traded. 
Then  he  made  the  sage  reflection  that  nine-tenths 
of  the  women  who  find  themselves  in  a  similar 
predicament  could  escape  their  troubles  by  confid- 
ing in  a  trusty  male  friend.  But  who  was  the 
woman  who  entered  as  he  was  leaving  ?  Was  it 
the  unknown  Lucy  ?  He  hoped  not ;  yet  there  was 
something  familiar  in  her  form  and  voice.  But 
who  ?  Then  his  thoughts  took  another  direction. 
He  must  find  the  unknown  Lucy.  He  would  not 
delay  a  moment  in  this.  He  would  make  a  call  at 
once  on  a  lady  who  knew  nearly  everybody. 

By  this  time  he  had  reached  Broadway,  and  he 

30 


"MAMA  JAMIESON."  31 

turned  in  the  direction  leading  to  his  own  apart- 
ments. Here  he  met  an  acquaintance  who  put  an 
end  to  his  soliloquizing. 

Mrs.  Jamieson,  the  lady  upon  whom  Jack  pro- 
posed to  call  at  once,  was  a  leader  in  the  circles  of 
fashion  and  one  whose  acquaintance  was  widely 
extended.  She  was  not  only  influential  in  the 
more  exclusive  world  of  what  is  now  called  the 
Four  Hundred,  of  which  she  was  a  member  by 
right  of  birth,  but  she  inclined  herself  to  be  agree- 
able to  that  much  larger  class  which, having  achieved 
riches,  was  struggling  for  recognition.  Her  hus- 
band had  political  aspirations,  and  she  was  endeavor- 
ing to  assist  him. 

If  any  one  among  his  friends  would  know  the 
past,  present,  and  future  of  New  York  society  it 
would  be  Mrs.  Jamieson,  was  Gordon's  idea,  and 
besides  it  was  time  he  called  upon  her. 

This  lady  was  popular,  and  cultivated  popularity. 
She  was  of  that  age  when  she  had  taken  on  the 
graces  of  a  matron  without  losing  the  charms  of 
youth.  She  manifested  an  intense  interest  in 
young  people's  doings,  and  was  the  recipient  of 
their  confidences.  Her  pretense  of  motherly,  or 
elder-sisterly  advice,  was  dangerously  near  flirta- 
tion— barely  escaping  it  by  an  assumption  of  an 
air  of  care  and  protection.  To  a  young  man,  there 
is  nothing  more  fascinating  than  a  charming  matron 
of  thirty  or  thirty-five,  who  manifests  an  especial 
interest  in  his  well-being,  and  who  chides  with  a 
lenient  eye  to  the  follies  of  youth  and  advises  with 
a  broad  recognition  of  the  tendencies  of  young 
mankind. 

She  sought  power  and  influence,  and  used  such 
when  gained  efficiently  in  the  furtherance  of 
the  aims  of  her  husband,  whom  she  devotedly 
loved. 

Young  men  were,  therefore,  welcome  within  her 


32          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

doors,  and  as  she  was  too  sagacious  to  rely  wholly 
upon  her  own  charms,  she  made  her  parlors  at- 
tractive to  young  girls.  Her  habit  of  motherly 
advice,  and  assumption  of  care  of  their  right-going, 
had  earned  her  in  her  own  especial  circle  the  name 
of  "  Mama  Jamieson." 

Four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  this — for  Jack — 
stirring  day,  found  him  in  the  parlors  of  Mrs. 
Jamieson.  She  came  from  the  conservatory  where 
his  card  had  been  carried  to  her,  and  gave  him  a 
most  gracious  welcome.  There  were,  indeed,  few 
women  who  did  not  when  he  presented  himself. 

"  I  ought  to  have  punished  you  by  sending  word 
that  I  was  not  at  home,"  she  said,  holding  out  to 
him  a  very  pretty  white  and  dimpled  hand.  "  Do 
you  know  how  long  it  is  since  you  called  upon 
me  ? " 

"  If  I  am  to  measure  the  time  by  the  desire  I 
have  had  to  see  you,  I  should  say  it  was  years." 

"  Poh.  That  is  not  a  pretty  speech,  but  a  very 
naughty  one,"  said  the  little  lady,  as  she  settled 
herself  in  a  low  easy-chair  and  spread  out  her 
draperies  so  that  they  might  fall  in  becoming  folds. 

"  Don't  sit  there,"  she  continued,  pointing  to  one 
nsar  her.  "  Take  this  seat,  so  that  I  can  see  your 
face.  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  good  scolding." 

"  For  what  ?  "  he  answered,  as  he  obeyed  her. 
"  I  am  not  conscious  of  having  Eehaved  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  merit  the  displeasure  of  even  so  ex- 
acting and  puritanical  a  person  as  yourself." 

"  Is  that  sarcasm  ?  " 

"  Oh,  by  no  means." 

"  No,  I  don't  think  it  was — only  an  attempt — a 
failure.  But  you  shan't  escape." 

"  Well,  what  is  the  slander  ?  " 

"  Slander,  indeed.  As  if  it  were  possible  to 
slander  you.  Jack,  you  are  very  wicked.  What 
do  you  mean  by  driving  cabs  at  night  ?  " 


"MAMA  JAMIESON:'  33 

Gordon  laughed  heartily,  but  nevertheless  he 
was  annoyed. 

"  From  whom  did  you  receive  that  bit  of  impor- 
tant information  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Do  you  deny  it  ?  "  she  asked,  bending  her 
brown  eyes  upon  him,  in  which  was  expressed  no 
little  admiration.  The  wild  pranks  of  young  men 
excite  the  esteem  of  women. 

"  Oh,  I  never  deny  anything,  true  or  false." 

"  You  mean  it  is  true.  Don't  you  think  you 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  ? " 

"  It  is  rather  a  respectable  calling  when  followed 
honestly,"  he  replied  argumentatively. 

"  Pho  !     You  driving  a  cab  !  " 

"  You  think  perhaps  I  ought  to  have  pulled  it?" 
said  he,  assuming  great  seriousness.  "  But,  you  see, 
the  horse  couldn't  drive." 

"  How  can  you  be  so  absurd  !  "  said  the  little 
lady,  laughing,  as  she  laid  her  head  back  against 
the  soft  cushions  of  her  chair,  thus  displaying  to 
good  advantage  the  outlines  of  her  charming  figure, 
just  losing  its  daintiness  in  increasing  plumpness. 

"  It  is  neither  the  driving  nor  the  pulling  of  the 
cab  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of.  You  know 
that.' 

"Ah,"  he  replied,  in  atone  of  conviction.  "It 
was  wearing  the  livery.  But  cab-drivers  don't 
wear  dress  coats  in  November  on  their  boxes." 

"  You  willfully  misunderstand  me,"  said  his 
mentor.  "  It  was  that  horrid  bet  about  a  defense- 
less woman,  that  you  monsters  should  have  been 
ashamed  of.  One  could  pass  over  the  cab-driving 
in  you,  for  you  are  always  doing  some  absurdly 
erratic  thing.  But  the  bet." 

The  thought  swept  over  Jack  that  perhaps  her 
informant  had  been  the  unknown,  who  had 
recognized  him. 

"  The  bet  led  to  no  indignity  to  her,"  he  said 


34          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

humbly.  "  What  is  your  interest  in  it  ?  Do  you 
know  her  ?  " 

"  No.     I  do  not  know  her.     Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  never  saw  her  before  or 
since." 

"  What  possessed  you  to  do  such  a  thing  ? 
Doubtless  she  is  a  lady  ? " 

"  I  presume  she  is.  Oh,  I  admit  it  was  not 
just  proper,  Mrs.  Jamieson,  but  I  wanted  to  take 
'  Dizzy  '  Lowell  down  a  bit." 

"  '  Dizzy  '  Lowell  !  My  precious  cousin  !  Was 
he  in  the  disgraceful  affair  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  did  not  intend  to  'peach'  on  any  of 
them.  I  supposed  you  knew.  However,  I  didn't 
take  him  down — I  lost  the  bet." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  you  ought  to  have  won  it. 
You  deserved  to  for  your  ingenuity.  Will  Robb 
told  me  all  about  it  to-day  at  the  dog-show.  Let 
me  say  to  you,  Jack  Gordon,  you  will  soon  lose 
your  reputation  as  being  a  catch  if  you  are  not 
more  careful.  Mothers  will  not  care  to  entrust 
their  daughters  for  life  to  an  amateur  cabman,  who 
insults  defenseless  women." 

"  Isn't  that  a  little  hard  ?  I  plead  guilty  to  the 
amateur  .cabmanship,  but  not  to  the  insult.  I  sup- 
pose it  wasn't  nice  to  make  a  lady  the  subject  of  a 
bet,  but  you  must  see  there  was  no  intention  or 
attempt  to  annoy  the  lady." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  the  lady,  doubtfully.  "  If  you 
are  properly  penitent  I'll  look  over  the  offense  and 
still  hold  open  my  doors  to  you.  But  you  must 
come  more  frequently  to  confession  than  you  have 
of  late,  or  you  will  be  stricken  from  my  roll  of 
eligibles." 

"  To  find  your  doors  closed  to  me  would  be  a 
calamity,"  replied  Jack  with  proper  humility. 
"  But  to  be  stricken  from  your  roll  of  eligibles 
would  not  be  an  unmixed  evil." 


"MAMA  JAMIESON."  35 

"  Indeed  !  You  are  now  at  the  head  of  the  list. 
Don't  you  ever  intend  to  marry?  " 

"  Not  so  long  as  you  confer  upon  me  the  inesti- 
mable boon  of  your  friendship." 

"  Jack,  you  are  growing  audacious  ;  are  you 
going  to  become  dangerous  ?  I  must  marry  you 
off.  It  is  time  some  one  undertook  your  guidance." 

"  Oh,  don't  do  that.  How  have  I  offended  you, 
that  you  should  threaten  to  do  me  such  injury  ? " 

<4  Now  there  is  another  fault  of  yours — cyni- 
cism. It  will  do  well  enough  for  old  men,  but  in 
a  boy  like  you  it  is  silly  and  odious.  You  posi- 
tively must  come  here  more  frequently,  so  that  I 
can  correct  your  faults." 

Gordon  laughed  with  pleasure,  by  no  means  in- 
sensible to  this  delicious  kind  of  petting. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  presume  I  should  go  to 
the  dogs,  if  it  were  not  for  your  corrective  influ- 
ence." 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  responded  the  vivacious  little 
woman,  sitting  upright  and  presenting  to  him  a 
very  pretty  full  face,  on  which  the  wrinkles  begin- 
ning to  come  were  skillfully  hidden.  "  Now  listen. 
To-morrow  I  am  going  to  have  a  rosebud  party.  I 
did  not  send  you  cards  because  I  wanted  to  punish 
you,  and  because,  principally  because,  I  was  doubt- 
ful about  letting  you  in  to  browse  among  so  many 
pretty  innocents." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  an  ox  that  you  talk  of  my 
browsing  ?  " 

"  Be  silent.  That  was  a  mere  figure  of  speech. 
But,  since  you  have  been  so  penitent  to-day,  I  will 
permit  you  to  come.  Indeed,  you  must  come.  I 
insist  upon  it.  If  you  have  made  any  engagements, 
you  must  break  them.  I  command  you." 

"  Oh,  well,  if  you  command,  I  must  obey." 

"  Then  you  will  come  ?  " 

"  Certainly.     Who  will  be  here  ? " 


36          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Oh,  don't  ask  me  to  tell.  There  is  my  list  on 
the  table  ;  look  that  over." 

Gordon  took  up  the  book  with  a  new  thought. 
Perhaps  he  would  find  the  name  of  Dr.  Sherman. 
He  turned  to  the  letter  S,  but  could  not  find  it. 
He  laid  the  book  on  the  table. 

"  Your  list  is  a  momentous  affair.  You  do  not 
pretend  to  say  that  you  visit  all  these  people  ?  " 

"  It  is  far  too  large,"  she  replied,  "  and  were  not 
one  permitted  to  make  calls  by  cards,  the  list  could 
not  possibly  be  kept  up." 

"  Are  you  acquainted  with  a  Dr.  Sherman  ?  " 
asked  Jack  indifferently,  though  he  eagerly  awaited 
the  answer. 

"  Dr.  Sherman,"  she  repeated,  trying  to  think. 
"  The  name  is  familiar.  Oh,  yes.  No,  I  do  not 
know  him,  but  Walter  talked  of  him  last  night 
as  one  whose  acquaintance  he  would  be  glad  to 
cultivate.  An  elderly  gentleman,  is  he  not  ?  A 
widower  ?  Has  lived  abroad  the  greater  part  of 
his  life  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.  His  name  was  brought  to  my 
attention  a  day  or  two  since,  somewhat  singularly. 
Idle  curiosity  prompted  the  question." 

"  Ask  Walter — Mr.  Jamieson.  He  will  tell  you 
all  about  him.  He  belongs  to  the  old  Shermans 
up  the  river." 

"  Ah,"  thought  Jack.     "  Light  at  last." 

Before  he  could  reply,  four  young  ladies  were 
ushered  in,  making  considerable  noise.  Jack  recog- 
nized them  all — one  the  young  wife  of  a  prominent 
lawyer  of  the  city,  Caleb  Van  Huyn,  famed  for  her 
beauty  and  the  circumspection  of  her  life— the  three, 
as  young  ladies  of  society,  who  approached  as  near 
the  standing  of  the"  fast  "young  woman  of  English 
fashionable  life,  as  American  girls  could  and  yet 
preserve  their  reputations,  and  known  as  "  Mollie  " 
Lowell,  "  Lou  "  Appleby,  and  "  Nell  "  Robb. 


"MAMA  JAMIE  SON."  37 

"  This  is  neither  a  descent  nor  an  attack,"  said 
Mrs.'  Van  Huyn  to  Mrs.  Jamieson,  who  advanced 
to  greet  her.  "  Nor  am  I  responsible  for  the  ap- 
pearance of  these  young  ladies.  We  met  at  the 
door." 

"  No  one  ever  is,  the  burden  is  too  heavy,"  said 
Jack,  who  had  not  as  yet  been  observed  by  the 
new-comers,  for  he  was  somewhat  obscured  from 
their  view  by  an  easel  upon  one  side  and  a  huge 
jar  upon  the  other. 

The  voice  of  a  man  stilled  the  babel  for  a  brief 
instant. 

"  It  is  that  monster,  Jack  Gordon,"  cried  Nell 
Robb.  "  No  one  but  Jack  would  dare  to  be  so 
saucy." 

The  three  young  ladies,  with  cautious  tread  and 
fingers  to  their  lips,  after  the  manner  of "  The 
Three  Conspirators,"  embarked  upon  a  voyage  of 
discovery. 

Peering  around  the  easel,  the  young  gentleman 
was  found  in  elegant  ease,  nonchalantly  playing  with 
his  watch-guard,  staring  at  them  blandly. 

"  '  Mama '  Jamieson's  spoiled  boy,"  whispered 
Miss  Lowell. 

"  B'ess  its  pitty  'itty  face,"  murmured  Miss 
Appleby. 

"  Leave  the  child  alone,  Lou,"  said  Mrs.  Jamie- 
son,  who  had  followed  only  in  time  to  hear  the 
soothing  remark  of  Miss  Appleby.  "  I've  been 
scolding  him  to  my  heart's  content.  He's 
punished  enough  for  one  day." 

"  I  hope  you  are  truly  penitent,"  said  Mrs.  Van 
Huyn,  but  not  without  marked  reserve  in  her  speech. 

"  Penitent,"  cried  Miss  Robb.  "  Look  at  that 
hardened  face,  and  ask  if  penitence  ever  sat  sorrow- 
ing upon  it." 

"  True  penitence  rests  in  the  heart  and  not  in 
the  face.  Miss  Robb,"  replied  Jack  meekly;  and 


3§          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

then,  with  a  saintly  air,  "  There's  where  mine 
rests." 

"  And  he  pretends  to  have  a  heart,"  interjected 
Miss  Lowell. 

"  I  did,  Mollie,  darling,  until  I  caught  sight  of 
that  ravishing  head-gear  of  yours,  when  it  took 
flight  and  lodged  itself  in  your  sweet  keeping — 
penitence  and  all.  And  Heaven  knows  what  need 
you  have  for  penitence  for  all  your  sins." 

"  Sins  ?  Oh,  yes  ;  and  the  last  is  that  same  'rav- 
ishing head-gear  '  which  has  caught  thine  eagle 
eye,  Jack.  I  stood  up  the  milliner,  and  now  Lowell 
pere  refuses  to  come  down,  because,  forsooth,  he 
says  I  am  extravagant." 

Miss  Mollie  took  the  article  from  her  shapely 
head,  shaking  her  blonde  curls  with  a  bewitching 
toss,  and  regarded  the  "  head-gear  "  with  affection. 

"  Moll,"  screamed  Miss  Appleby,  "  I've  an  idea. 
Go  at  once  to  papa  Lowell  and  tell  him  that  the 
'  head-gear  '  has  captured  the  immaculate  Mr.  Gor- 
don, who  is  at  your  feet  a  tearful  swain.  He'll  pay 
for  seven  bonnets  like  it." 

"  Do,"  said  Jack,  much  interested.  "  He'll  jump 
at  the  chance  of  getting  rid  of  you  so  easily,  and 
I'll—" 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  "  said  the  young  lady,  dain- 
tily smoothing  the  feathers  of  the  bird  ornamenting 
the  crest  of  the  hat.  "  What  will  you  do  ?  " 

"Jump  the  town  to  get  away  from  you." 

"  I'll  not  have  any  more  of  such  slang  in  my 
parlors.  Upon  my  word,  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,  the  way 
these  young  people  talk — " 

"  Must  remind  you  of  the  elegance  of  the  talk  in 
a  Parisian  salon,"  interrupted  Jack. 

4<  Jack  Gordon,  I  do  not — " 

"  By  being  so  immeasurably  unlike  it,"  continued 
Jack  imperturbably. 

"  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,"  said  Mrs.  Jamieson,  "  before 


"MAMA  JAMIESON."  39 

these  wicked  creatures  came  in  I  had  reduced  Mr. 
Gordon  to  a  proper  sort  of  subjection,  and  now — 

"  And  now  you  perceive,  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,"  re- 
marked Jack,  "  how  '  evil  communications  corrupt 
good  manners.'  " 

"  My  brother  '  Dizzy,'  "  said  Miss  Lowell,  in 
anecdotic  tone,  "  who  is  rather  a  good  fellow — 

"  Much  like  his  sister,"  politely  interjected  Jack. 

"  But  not  over-bright — " 

"Wherein  he  is  not  like  his  sister,"  said  Miss 
Appleby,  her  strong  friend. 

"  Said  yesterday  morning  at  breakfast,"  contin- 
ued Miss  Lowell,  unmindful  of  the  interruptions, 
"  that  he  never  could  understand  that  old  proverb. 
'  For,'  said  he,  '  here  is  Jack  Gordon,  whose  man- 
ners are  very  good,  but  whose  communications  are 
very  evil,'  and  in  support  of  it  he  showed  me  a  let- 
ter he  had  just  received  from  you." 

Jack  looked  somewhat  foolish  and  a  little  red, 
so  that  the  rest  thought  his  antagonist  had  scored 
a  point  against  him. 

"What  was  it?"  cried  Miss  Robb.  "Do  tell 
us  ;  Jack  doesn't  want  you  to,  I  know,  but  do, 
please." 

"  No,  don't,"  said  Mrs.  Jamieson.  "  I  should  be 
afraid  to  hear  it,  and  I  haven't  forgotten  how  to 
blush.  I'd  rather  tell  you  of  his  caprice  of  last 
night." 

"  I  beg  you'll  not  do  that,  my  dear  Mrs.  Jamie- 
son,"  said  Jack,  rising.  "  I  could  stand  that  letter 
to  '  Dizzy,'  but  you  know  I've  confessed  and  re- 
pented— surely  you  will  grant  absolution." 

"  You  shall  have  it,  Jack.  Depend  upon  my 
discretion." 

"  Are  you  going  up  the  avenue,  Jack  ?  We'll  go 
with  you,"  said  Miss  Lowell,  teasingly.  "  I  know, 
girls,  he  don't  want  us." 

"  Oh,   I'm   sure,"    said   Jack,  backing  away,  "  I 


40          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

should  be  delighted,  but  you  see  I've  promised  Mrs. 
Jamieson  to  reform  and  to  endeavor  to  regain  my 
character." 

Then,  making  his  adieus,  he  vanished  before  his 
impertinence  could  be  replied  to. 

Mrs.  Van  Huyn,  who  had  not  apparently  been 
greatly  edified  by  this  specimen  of  conversation, 
which  in  our  latter-day  civilization  and  refinement 
passes  for  wit,  seized  the  opportunity  to  say  to  Mrs. 
Jamieson  that  she  had  called  to  solicit  cards  for 
that  lady's  "  rosebud  "  party,  for  two  old  and  valued 
friends. 

To  this  Mrs.  Jamieson  eagerly  replied  that  she 
would  be  greatly  pleased,  and  asked  her  to  give  the 
names  and  addresses,  which  she  did  by  laying  two 
cards  upon  the  table,  and  shortly  after  took  her 
leave. 

It  was  quite  evident  from  the  manner  in  which 
she  was  treated  by  all,  that  Mrs.  Van  Huyn  was  a 
person  of  consequence. 

After  she  had  left,  and  the  girls  had  gathered 
about  her,  Mrs.  Jamieson  read  the  cards. 

"  Why,"  she  said,  "  this  is  singular.  '  Dr.  Sher- 
man.' '  Miss  Lucy  Sherman.'  '  B Hotel.'" 

"  What  is  singular  ?  "  asked  Miss  Lowell,  laying 
her  head  affectionately  upon  Mrs.  Jamieson's 
shoulder. 

"  Why,  the  moment  you  came  in,  Jack  was  ask- 
ing me  if  I  knew  a  Dr.  Sherman." 

"  Miss  Lucy  Sherman,"  replied  the  young  lady. 
"  Jack  must  have  a  new  '  mash.'  " 

"  Mollie,"  cried  Mrs.  Jamieson,  in  supreme  dis- 
gust, "  why  will  you  be  so  horribly  slangy.  Your 
words  are  not  nice." 

"  But  myself  is,  and  so  one  balances  the  other," 
stopping  further  chiding  with  a  caress. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    PACKAGE. 

/CORDON  hurried  from  Mrs.  Jamieson's  door 
\JT  with  the  thought  that  he  would  barely  have 
time  to  dress  for  a  dinner  for  which  he  was 
under  engagement,  and  quickened  also  by  the 
recollection  that  he  had  left  the  package  he  had  so 
successfully  demanded  from  Renfrew  in  the  pocket 
of  the  coat  he  had  changed  before  going  to  call. 

So  when  he  reached  his  own  apartments  his  first 
act  was  to  demand  the  coat  he  had  worn  that 
morning.  Crimmins  brought  it  to  him,  and  he  hur- 
riedly searched  it,  under  the  apprehension  that  the 
letters  had  disappeared. 

But  they  were  where  he  had  placed  them.  Tell- 
ing his  man  to  lay  out  his  clothes  for  dinner,  he 
took  the  package  to  the  window  and  was  about  to 
make  an  examination  of  its  contents. 

Jack  was  not  without  a  keen  sense  of  honor,  and 
the  thought  flashed  over  him  that  the  letters  were 
not  his  to  read  ;  that  to  read  them  was  to  possess 
himself  of  a  secret  not  intended  for  him.  This 
deterred  him,  and  he  sat  weighing  the. package  in 
his  hand,  thinking. 

"  No,"  he  muttered,  "  it  is  not  the  proper  thing 
to  do.  Should  she  be  a  lady,  and  it  is  quite  among 
the  possibilities,  with  a  proper  sense  of  propriety, 
as  is  quite  probable,  I  would  stand  in  a  very  poor 
light  before  her,  should  I  be  unable  to  say  I  was 
absolutely  unacquainted  with  the  contents  of  her 
letters.  Per  contra,  I  would  stand  very  well  before 
her.  My  interference  into  her  affairs  was,  after  all 

41 


42          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

is  said,  a  piece  of  presumption  which  can  be  jus- 
tified only  by  the  spirit  under  which  it  was  under- 
taken— a  sincere  desire  to  aid  her  to  escape  from 
that  rascal.  To  read  them  now  would  be  to  rob  me 
of  all  the  credit  of  that  performance,  would  reduce 
me  to  the  level  of  that  scamp,  and  beside  would 
place  me  in  possession  of  the  same  power  to  hold 
over  her,  whether  I  used  it  or  not,  and  that  would 
put  an  end  to  all  the  gratitude  I  might  naturally 
expect  from  her.  No,  I'll  not  read  them." 

"  Crimmins."  he  said  aloud  to  his  man,  "bring 
the  sealing-wax." 

Lighting  the  gas,  he  sealed  the  package,  saying  : 

"You  see,  I  am  sealing  up  this  package  after 
having  taken  it  from  my  pocket  unopened." 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  his  man,  much  interested  in 
the  act,  and  quicklydisappointed  when  he  heard 
no  more  of  it. 

Gordon,  completing  the  sealing,  placed  it  in  a 
small  safe  he  had  in  his  rooms,  and  then  proceeded 
with  his  dressing. 

At  the  same  hour  that  Gordon  was  debating  with 
himself  as  to  whether  or  not  he  should  possess 
himself  of  the  secret  of  the  fair  unknown,  in  an  up- 
town hotel  a  young  woman  was  seated  upon  a  rug 
in  front  of  an  open  fire  with  a  small  trunk  beside 
her,  the  door  of  her  room  locked.  She  was  weep- 
ing, the  tears  fast  flowing  down  her  face. 

The  clock  on  the  mantel  chimed  the  hour. 

She  looked  up  and  said  sadly  : 

"  The  last  day  but  one  goes  swiftly." 

Then  she  again  busied  herself  with  her  occu- 
pation. 

This  consisted  of  taking  from  the  trunk  letters, 
old  papers,  the  accumulations  of  the  past  five  years. 

As  she  read  each  one  she  threw  it  upon  the  fire. 
Sometimes  she  lingered  over  one  as  if  loath  to 
destroy  it,  but  in  the  end  it  fed  the  flames. 


THE  PACKAGE.  43 

Finally  the  trunk  was  emptied  of  everything  save 
a  small  box.  She  lifted  it  from  the  trunk  and 
opened  it. 

"  This  has  been  fatal  to  me,"  she  said  aloud. 
"  Oh,  Lucy,  Lucy,  your  inheritance  was  a  fatal  one. 
But  for  the  possession  of  this  box  1  would  never 
have  been  led  into  that  miserable  act.  You  meant 
it  as  a  token  of  your  affection  ;  it  has  become  a 
curse.  It  has  persuaded  me  into  crime  ;  it  has 
made  my  young  life  miserable  ;  it  has  brought  me 
face  to  face  with  death.  Little  did  you,  or  did  I, 
think  when  I  received  it  from  your  poor  wasted 
hands  it  would  bring  me  such  evil.  It  is  far  worse 
than  Pandora's  box,  for  I  have  no  hope.  I'll  leave 
it  behind  me." 

She  put  it  back  into  the  empty  trunk. 

She  sat  for  a  long  time  on  the  rug,  her  hands 
tightly  clasped  upon  her  knees,  staring  into  the  fire. 
At  last  she  murmured  : 

"  I  presume  it  is  a  just  punishment  for  so  great 
a  crime.  And  yet  I  was  so  young,  so  inexperienced. 
I  had  but  one  to  consult,  and  he  an  enemy  who 
tempted  me.  I  suppose  what  I  ought  to  do  is  to 
go  at  once  and  confess  everything.  But  I  can  not, 
I  dare  not.  I  could  not  endure  his  scorn  and  con- 
tempt. He  has  come  to  love  me  as  a  daughter. 
And  he  never  forgives.  He  would  turn  me  into 
the  street,  and  I  could  not  endure  my  fall.  No,  I 
prefer  to  die." 

She  rose  from  where  she  was  crouching,  and 
going  to  her  writing-table,  drew  some  papers  before 
her,  took  her  pen  and  dipped  it  into  the  ink. 

She  wrote  hurriedly  these  words  : 

"  Before  I  die — " 

Then  she  threw  her  arms  upon  the  table,  and 
burying  her  head  in  them,  she  wept  bitterly,  her 
whole  frame  convulsed  with  her  sobs. 

A  rap  at  the  door  disturbed  her. 


44          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

It  was  the  maid  announcing  that  dinner  was 
about  to  be  served. 

"  Tell  my  father,"  she  said,  controlling  herself  to 
answer,  "that  I  am  unwell — too  unwell  to  dine. 
Ask  him  to  excuse  me." 

Then  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  must  hasten  before 
I  am  again  disturbed." 

She  returned  to  her  writing,  driving  her  pen  with 
feverish  haste. 

It  was  Lucy,  preparing  to  end  her  life. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

GORDON'S  SENSATION. 

WHEN  a  man  of  affairs  has  achieved  something 
of  which  he  is  proud,  he  is  apt  to  indulge 
himself  the  following  morning,  while  lying 
comfortably  in  bed,  by  reviewing  with  satisfaction 
the  events  which  have  given  him  pleasure,  before 
turning  out  to  encounter  again  the  struggle  of 
life. 

In  so  far  as  Gordon  indulged  himself  with  re- 
viewing his  triumph  over  Renfrew,  the  morning 
after,  he  was  a  man  of  affairs. 

Crimmins,  his  valet,  having  looked  in  upon  him 
and  perceived  that  his  "  gent'man "  was  wide 
awake,  brought  him  the  morning  paper,  which 
Gordon  proceeded  to  lazily  look  over. 

As  he  ran  his  eye  up  one  column  and  down  an- 
other, his  attention  was  arrested  by  the  heading, 
"  A  MYSTERIOUS  MURDER." 

"They  are  always  killing  one  another  in  this 
town,"  he  said  with  a  yawn.  "  One  would  think 
they  would  soon  depopulate  it." 

The  next  line  caught  his  eye, — "  An  Actor 
Killed  in  his  Room." 

"  If  it  were  that  fellow,  Renfrew,"  he  continued, 
"  it  wouldn't  be  so  bad." 

He  read  the  next  line.  Now  his  interest  was 
fully  aroused.  He  sat  upright  in  his  bed. 

"  By  Jove,  it  is."     He  read  hurriedly: 

"Last  evening,"  the  article  began,  "when  it  was  about 
time  for  the  curtain  to  be  lifted  upon  the  peiformance  at  the  — 

45 


46          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

Theater,  the  stage  manager,  Mr.  L — ,  discovered  that  one  of 
the  actors,  who  bore  an  important  part  in  the  comedy  now 
playing,  was  not  yet  in  his  room.  The  missing  actor  was  not 
required  to' be  on  the  stage  until  near  the  close  of  the  first  act, 
but  it  is  a  rule  of  the  theater  that  every  one  shall  be  ready  to 
'go  on,'  when  the  orchestra  is  '  rung  in.' 

"  Inasmuch  as  Mr.  Cyril  Renfrew,  the  name  of  the  missing 
actor,  had  narrowly  escaped  responding  to  his  '  cue  '  to  '  enter,' 
some  weeks  previously,  alleging  as  a  reason  that  he  had  in  a 
nap,  which  he  took  every  afternoon,  overslept  himself ,  Mr.  L — 
feared  a  similar  mishap  had  occurred,  and  determined  to  send 
to  his  room,  as  it  was  '  hard  by,'  as  the  old  dramas  have  it.  The 
messenger  on  arriving  at  Mr.  Renfrew's  room  knocked,  but  re- 
ceived no  response.  Trying  the  door  and  finding  it  would  open, 
he  entered.  The  light  from  the  street  enabled  him  to  see  the 
form  of  a  man  in  a  chair,  evidently  asleep,  for  his  head  rested 
on  his  breast.  He  spoke,  but  received  no  answer  ;  he  went  to 
the  chair  and  shook  the  man,  but  was  not  heeded.  Becoming 
frightened  he  lit  the  gas,  and  found  the  actor  was  dead,  a 
bui  let-hole  in  his  head  just  above  the  temple,  from  which  the 
brain  was  slowly  oozing. 

"  On  the  floor  lay  a  pistol,  ivory-handled. 

"Now  thoroughly  alarmed,  he  made  a  great  outcry.  A 
neighbor  rushed  in,  a  Mr.  Tyrell,  member  of  the  Produce  Ex- 
change, and  the  janitor  came  running  upstairs-  The  janitor's 
name  is  William  Doolan.  The  messenger,  whose  name  is 
Charles  Crowley,  hurried  back  to  the  theater  with  the  sad 
tidings. 

"  The  janitor  informed  the  police  authorities." 

After  giving  a  minute  description  of  the  room, 
the  article  went  on  : 

"It  is  known  that  Mr.  Renfrew  did  not  leave  his  room 
at  all  yesterday,  and  when  killed  still  wore  his  slippers.  He 
had  during  the  day  three  visitors.  First  a  lady  :  then  a  young 
man  ;  and  finally  a  lady  dressed  in  black.  Both  women  were 
closely  veiled.  These  persons  did  not  visit  together.  The 
first  lady  and  the  young  man  were  seen  by  the  janitoi  ;  the 
young  man  and  the  second  lady  were  seen  by  the  janitor's  son 
Jimmie — a  bright  lad  of  fifteen.  All  are  unknown.  One  of 
the  three  committed  the  murder.  Perhaps  one  of  the  two,  for 
it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  the  first  and  second  women  were 
not  the  same. 

"  Mr.  Tyrell,  who  occupies  the  apartments  opposite  to  those 
of  the  dead  man,  says  that  when  he  left  his  rooms  about  one 


GORDON'S  SENSATION.  47 

o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  he  heard  Renfrew's  voice,  and  the 
tone  indicated  that  he  was  angry.  This  must  have  been  dur- 
ing the  first  woman's  call.  Mr.  Tyrell  says  that  when  he  re- 
turned about  half-past  three  or  a  little  before,  he  heard  in  the 
actor's  room  two  voices — one  Renfrew's,  still  angry,  and  the 
other  a  woman's  voice,  and  that  was  even  still  more  angry. 

"  The  boy  Jimmie  says  that  having  been  sent  upstairs  about 
two,  or  a  quarter  after  two,  by  his  father  on  an  errand,  as  he  was 
passing  Mr.  Renfrew's  room  he  heard  a  scuffle  and  a  heavy  fall. 
Then  he  heard  these  words  :  '  It  won't  pay.  You'll  hurt 
yourself.  Get  up.'  He  thought  someone  was  skylarking." 

"  By  Jove  !  "  cried  Jack,  much  interested,  "  that 
was  me." 

"  The  boy  says  the  tone  was  not  angry — " 
"  No,"  said  Jack,  "  I  wasn't  angry." 

"and  that  the  voice  was  not  that  of  Mr.  Renfrew,  conse- 
quently it  must  have  been  that  of  his  visitor,  and  the  words 
must  have  been  addressed  to  the  actor." 

"By  the  combined  genius  of  the  boy  and  the  re- 
porter," commented  Jack,  "  an  indisputable  fact 
has  been  arrived  at.  Logic  is  a  strong  thing." 

The  reporter  then  devoted  some  space  to  the 
murdered  man  : 

"  Mr.  Renfrew  has  not  enjoyed  a  good  reputation.  His 
acquaintances  say  that  he  was  perpetually  in  trouble  with 
women,  carrying  on  mysterious  intrigues,  and  some  do  not 
hesitate  to  say  that  these  were  pressed  for  pecuniary  purposes. 
It  is  thought  by  some  that  his  real  name  was  Jacob  Myers." 

"  I  could  give  some  testimony  on  that  head  my- 
self," said  Jack,  interrupting  himself. 

"  That  he  was  unpopular  with  his  professional  brethren  is 
an  open  secret.  A  prominent  actor,  who  has  played  with 
Mr.  Renfrew  frequently,  said  last  night,  '  Renfrew  was  a  bad 
egg-'  " 

"  I  agree  with  the  prominent  actor,"  said  Jack. 

"  '  He  \vas  universally  detested  by  his  brothers  and  sisters  of 
the  stage.'  " 


48          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  I  have  the  greatest  respect  for  the  brothers  and 
sisters  of  the  stage.  He  was  a  cur,"  again  com- 
mented Jack. 

"  '  I  am  only  telling  what  everyone  knows  that  he  had  not  a 
male  friend.'" 

"  My  respect  for  my  species  is  increasing,"  said 
Jack.  "  The  world  is  not  hopelessly  lost." 

"  'Renfrew  possessed  no  little  ability — he  was  more  than  a 
fair  actor  and  had  it  in  him  to  reach  the  higher  walks,  but  we 
were  all  .^o  convinced  of  his  despicable  practices  in  getting 
wealthy  young  girls  into  a  compromising  correspondence  with 
him,  and  then  bleeding  them  as  the  price  of  his  silence,  that  we 
thought  he  was  using  a  noble  calling  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
ducting his  nefarious  business,  and  regarded  him  as  a  disgrace 
to  the  profession.'  " 

"  Prominent  actor,  I  salute  thee,"  said  Jack,  sit- 
ting up  straight  in  his  bed  and  performing  a  mili- 
tary salute,  "  Likewise  the  noble  calling." 

"  'If  the  truth  is  ever  come  at,  I  shall  be  surprised  if  it  is  not 
found  that  at  last  he  met  one  who  would  not  tamely  submit 
and  thus  lost  his  life.' 

"  At  all  events,"  said  the  reporter  in  conclusion,  "  the  affair 
is  at  present  shrouded  in  mystery.  Captain  Lawton  of  the 
detective  force  is  in  charge  of  the  affair." 

"  By  George  !  "  said  Gordon,  "  wasn't  it  lucky  I 
got  to  him  before  he  was  killed,  or  her  letters  would 
be  in  the  hands  of  Captain  Lawton,  and — By  Jove  ! 
could  it  have  been  my  Lucy  ?  She  did  threaten  to 
kill  him.  Thunder!  It  was  to-night  at  midnight 
she  was  to  make  good  or  he  w;is  to  send  the  pack- 
age to  Dr.  Sherman.  That  package,  and  I've  got 
it.  Phew!"  He  gave  a  long  tthistte.  "  By  George, 
I'm  afraid  I'm  in  this  muss.  I'll  have  to  take  ac- 
count of  stock.  Here  Griinmius.  Gome  with  my 
clothes.  Quick!  I've  got  business  on  hand  this 
morning  sure  enough." 

He  hurried  though  his  toilet  with  a  reckless  dis- 


GORDON'S  SENSATION.  49 

regard  as  to  what  he  would  wear,  much  to  the 
astonishment  of  his  faithful  Crimmins,  and  went 
out  to  breakfast  and  to  cogitation. 

Gordon  was  too  clear-headed  not  to  appreciate 
the  predicament  he  was  in.  He  was,  in  fact,  a 
great  deal  troubled  over  the  outlook.  Not  that  he 
was  in  fear  of  any  danger  to  himself,  but  he  saw 
an  embarrassing  situation  in  which  he  thought  he 
would  not  figure  as  a  hero.  The  straightest  way 
out  of  the  difficulty,  so  far  as  he  was  personally  con- 
cerned, was  to  seek  the  Captain  Lawton  spoken  of 
in  the  article  he  had  read,  and  tell  him  all,  truth- 
fully, concealing  nothing.  But  involved  in  that 
course  would  be  the  production  of  the  letters  and 
the  presentation  of  the  unknown  Lucy  as  a  factor 
in  the  problem.  From  this  course  he  recoiled. 
She  might  be  a  lady  to  whom  this  exposure  or  en- 
tanglement would  be  worse  than  death.  He  be- 
lieved she  was,  or  if  he  did  not  believe  so,  he  hoped 
she  was,  and  the  hope  was  as  influential  with  him 
as  the  conviction  would  have  been.  The  more  he 
considered  that  phase  of  the  situation  the  less  he 
was  inclined  to  follow  the  course  his  thoughts  and 
instinct  of  self-preservation  suggested  to  him. 
True,  he  believed  that  she  was  responsible  for  the 
actor's  death,  but  still  he  was  not  certain.  There 
was  a  doubt.  The  truth  was,  he  was  much  more 
interested  in  the  fair  unknown  than  he  was  con- 
scious of. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  did  not  fail  to  perceive 
that  if  he  were  to  avoid  giving  the  information  in  his 
possession  and  attempted  to  conceal  his  connection 
with  the  affair,  remote  as  it  was,  he  would  be  prej- 
udiced in  the  judgment  of  the  authorities  and  of 
the  public.  This  was  the  risk  he  ran.  If  finally 
tracked  and  compelled  to  tell  his  story  he  felt 
that  it  would  not  receive  the  credence  it  would,  were 
he  to  volunteer  it  immediately.  This  considers- 


50  JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERR  A  XT. 

tion  led  him  into  an  examination  of  the  possibility 
of  his  being  identified  with  the  young  man  who 
had  called  upon  Renfrew.  The  papers  all  said  that 
neither  the  janitor  nor  his  boy  had  recognized  the 
young  man.  He  had  seen  no  one  else  in  the  house 
save  the  lady  he  met  as  he  was  going  out. 
Neither  in  going  to  the  house  of  Renfrew,  nor  in 
his  coming  away,  had  he  met  any  one  who  knew 
him,  until  he  turned  into  Broadway.  The  chances 
of  any  one  thinking  that  he  and  the  young  man 
were  the  same  were  very  small,  was  his  conclusion 
on  this  head. 

As  to  the  consequences  of  his  attempt  at  con- 
cealment, if  he  was  discovered,  the  result  was  not 
so  satisfactory.  He  now  saw  how  utterly  incredi- 
ble his  story  was  from  the  standpoint  of  the  ordi- 
nary official  and  the  average  citizen.  To  satisfac- 
torily account  for  his  visit  he  would  have  to  recite 
his  bet,  his  driving  of  the  cab,  the  conversation  be- 
tween the  fair  unknown  and  Renfrew,  his  resolution 
to  assist  her,  and,  finally,  his  visit  to  the  actor  and 
his  remarkable  demand  on  behalf  of  the  young 
lady,  whose  relations  to  Renfrew  he  was  unac- 
quainted with,  whose  very  name  and  surroundings 
were  unknown  to  him. 

He  thought  he  could  already  hear  the  incredulous 
laugh  of  the  city,  the  sarcasm  of  his  friends.  He 
pictured  himself  telling  the  story  upon  the  witness- 
stand,  and  noted  the  skeptical  laugh  of  the  bar, 
the  doubtful  gaze  of  the  judge  on  the  bench,  and 
the  contempt  of  those  practical  young  gentlemen 
of  the  press,  who  would  embalm  their  scorn  in  cold 
type  for  the  amusement  of  the  public. 

He  cursed  his  knight-errantry  from  the  bottom 
of  his  heart.  Notwithstanding  the  reasons  he  ad- 
duced to  himself  to  lodge  all  the  information  he 
possessed,  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  the  point 
'of  directing  suspicion  to  the  young  lady  in  whose 


GORDON'S  SENSATION.  51 

behalf  he  had  involved  himself.  So  he  concluded 
his  breakfast  and  cogitations  with  the  determina- 
tion to  maintain  silence  and  take  the  consequences, 
whatever  they  might  be.  He  thought  also  he 
would  leave  town  for  some  weeks,  go  south  to 
Florida,  perhaps  to  Europe. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

DR.   SHERMAN    READS   THE    NEWS. 

DR.  SHERMAN  breakfasted  at  the  same  hour 
Jack  Gordon  did  on  the  morning  following 
the  murder,  or  he  would  have  done  so  had  he 
not  waited  for  his  daughter  Lucy,  which  he  did 
quite  impatiently.  He  was  one  of  those  gentlemen 
who,  having  nothing  whatever  to  do,  made  a  virtue  of 
promptitude.  He  waited  so  long  that  he  had 
worked  himself  into  the  belief  he  was  ill  used,  and 
was  about  to  send  the  coffee  to  the  fire  again,  while 
he  prepared  a  fitting  rebuke  for  the  tardiness  of 
his  daughter. 

When,  however,  she  entered,  heavy-eyed  and  sad- 
faced,  the  rebuke  died  away  in  his  concern  for  her 
condition. 

"  You  do  not  look  at  all  well,"  he  said.  "  I  fear 
you  have  had  a  bad  night." 

"  I  did  not  sleep  at  all,"  she  replied  wearily,  as 
she  took  her  place  behind  the  coffee-urn. 

"  You  are  evidently  ill,"  he  said,  laying  down  his 
paper  and  looking  at  her  anxiously.  "  I  must  send 
for  a  physician." 

"  It  is  nothing,"  she  answered  sadly.  "  It  will 
be  all  over  to-night." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?" 

"  I  am  quite  certain.  It  is  nothing  serious — a 
headache.  It  is  passing  away  rapidly." 

The  clock  had  struck  the  hour  of  nine  as  she 
spoke. 

"  I  sincerely  hope  so,"  said  Dr.  Sherman,  as  he 


DR.  SHERMAN  READS    THE  NEWS.         53 

returned  to  his  paper.  "  You  know  we  are  to  go 
to  Mrs.  Jamieson's  this  evening.  I  had  quite 
counted  on  it  for  reasons  of  my  own,  but  if  you  do 
not  feel  equal  to  it,  we  shall  not  go." 

"  My  condition  ought  not  to  prevent  you,"  she 
replied  indifferently. 

"  I  should  not  go  without  you." 

"  But  I  shall  be  able— indeed  glad  to  go."  The 
thought  had  occurred  to  her  that  she  could  escape 
from  herself  for  a  while. 

The  Doctor  did  not  reply,  but  returned  to  his 
reading.  His  daughter  poured  the  coffee. 

As  he  read  he  kept  up  a  running  comment.  "  Ex- 
traordinary !  Most  distressing  !  Very  mysterious!  " 
until  finally  the  attention  of  his  companion  was 
aroused. 

"  You  seem  to  find  something  interesting." 

"  A  very  mysterious  affair  indeed.  A  murder. 
An  actor  was  found  dead  last  night — Cyril  Ren- 
frew." 

The  lady  caught  the  table  to  save  herself  from 
falling.  It  was  well  that  her  father  was  intent  upon 
the  paper,  as  he  would  have  been  shocked  at  her 
appearance.  She  regained  control  of  herself. 

"  Murdered  !  Last  night  !  Why,  I  saw  him  yes- 
terday afternoon — on  Broadway, "she  added  quickly. 

"  Did  you  know  this  person  ?  "  asked  the  Doc- 
tor, severity  in  his  tone  and  scrutiny  in  his 
eye. 

"  As  half  the  city  did,  from  seeing  him  on  the 
stage." 

"  Ah,  yes.  I  suppose  so.  I  believe  he  was  pop- 
ular," returning  to  his  paper  again,  relieved  by  this 
reply  of  the  lady,  little  knowing  what  it  cost  her  to 
answer  so  indifferently. 

"You  saw  him  the  last  time  we  were  at  the  thea- 
ter," she  replied.  "In  '  Deceit.'  Yon  were  pleased 
with  his  performance,  for  you  praised  it." 


54          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Did  I  ?  Was  it  the  fellow  who  played  the  fop  ? 
A  clever  fellow.  So  that  is  the  man,  is  it  ? " 

All  this  time  the  young  lady  was  in  an  agony  of 
desire  to  know  more,  to  escape  to  where  she  could 
throw  off  the  burden  of  restraint.  She  hardly  knew 
what  she  was  saying  in  reply  ;  her  head  was  whirl- 
ing, but  outwardly  she  was  composed. 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  bear  hearing  the  ac- 
count read  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  indifferently.  "  It  will  not 
affect  me.  On  the  contrary,  interest  me.  Read  it, 
please." 

The  old  gentleman  took  off  his  glasses  and  wiped 
them  deliberately,  to  Lucy's  torture.  At  length, 
having  secured  a  satisfactory  polish,  he  began  the 
same  article  which  had  caused  Jack  so  much  con- 
sideration. 

The  young  lady  listened  with  the  most  intense 
interest,  following  each  word  eagerly,  her  lips  parted, 
drinking  all  in.  As  the  reading  progressed,  two 
red  spots  came  upon  her  cheeks  and  burned  bright- 
ly ;  then  she  grew  so  pale  that  had  the  Doctor 
looked  upon  her  he  would  have  thought  she  needed 
assistance. 

Twenty  times  in  the  course  of  his  reading  she 
was  on  the  point  of  crying  out,  but  by  superhuman 
effort  she  controlled  herself.  When  her  own  call 
upon  the  actor  was  noted,  she  held  her  breath 
awaiting  the  terrible  announcement  of  her  name. 
When  the  statement  was  made  that  the  callers 
were  all  unknown  she  experienced  a  wild  thrill 
of  joy. 

Her  sensations  were  rapid  and  indescribable. 
Sympathy,  remorse,  relief,  pity,  satisfaction,  anger, 
joy,  sorrow,  were  vividly  felt,  yet  almost  indistin- 
guishably.  It  seemed  to  her  afterward  as  if  she  had 
run  the  whole  gamut  of  the  passions  and  emotions. 

Her  father  had  been  so  much  interested  in  his 


DR.   SHERMAN  READS    THE   NEWS.         55 

reading  that  he  had  not  observed  her.  When 
finally  he  read  the  last  words,  "  The  affair  is 
shrouded  in  mystery,"  she  cried  out : 

"  It  is  horrible,  too  horrible  !  " 

The  Doctor  thought  her  words  were  inspired  by 
a  proper  feeling,  and  so  expressed  himself,  and  then, 
seeing  how  pale  and  agitated  she  was,  he  said  : 

"  I  have  been  thoughtless.  You  were  not  in  con- 
dition to  hear  so  dreadful  a  tale." 

"  I  trusted  too  much  to  my  strength,"  she  said. 
"  I  am  quite  unnerved." 

"  Try  to  compose  yourself,"  he  continued,  kind- 
ly. "  Try  to  forget  what  you  have  heard." 

With  this  he  endeavored  to  assist  her  by  plung- 
ing into  some  gossip  he  had  heard  the  night  pre- 
vious, and  talked  of  the  party  they  were  both  to 
attend  in  the  evening. 

His  effort,  as  may  well  be  supposed,  was  not  suc- 
cessful in  diverting  his  daughter's  thoughts  from 
the  tragedy  in  which  she  had  so  deep  an  interest — 
with  which  she  had  so  close  a  connection — but  un- 
der its  cover  she  was  enabled  to  finish  her  break- 
fast, though  every  second  seemed  an  hour  and 
every  minute  a  day. 

When  finally  the  Doctor  rose  from  the  table,  he 
said: 

"  Business  calls  me  down  town,  and  I  shall  not 
return  until  late  in  the  afternoon.  While  I  am 
away  try  to  secure  some  rest.  If  upon  my  return 
you  have  not  recovered  sufficiently  to  attend  Mrs. 
Jamieson's  party  I  will  then  send  our  regrets." 

As  soon  as  his  back  was  turned,  Lucy,  carrying 
the  paper  with  her,  hastened  to  her  room  and,  lock- 
ing the  door  after  her,  devoured  the  account  which 
had  such  interest  for  her. 

Having  finished,  she  gave  herself  up  to  thought. 
Her  first  feeling  was  one  of  intense  relief.  A  great 
load  was  lifted  from  her  shoulders.  No  longer 


56  JACK  CORDOX,  KX1GIIT  ERR  A  XT. 

would  she  be  subjected  to  those  demands  which  had 
made  her  life  a  torture;  nor  could  she  again  be 
•threatened  with  exposure ;  she  was  saved  from 
ruin — from  death.  She  flew  to  her  desk  and  took 
from  it  the  statement  she  had  prepared,  and  with  a 
wild  gesture  of  satisfaction  threw  it  upon  the  flames 
and  saw  it  burn,  with  no  attempt  at  concealment  of 
her  joy.  Yet  through  all  the  joy,  relief,  and  satis- 
faction she  was  conscious  that  this  happy  condi- 
tion had  been  attained  only  through  the  violent 
death  of  her  tormentor,  and  she  scorned  and  con- 
demned herself  because  she  was  happy. 

Yet  withal  she  could  not  repress  the  sense  of 
exultation  over  the  fact  that  now  no  one  was  alive 
who  shared  with  her  her  dangerous  secret,  and  that, 
with  the  one  who  had  shared  it  now  dead,  discov- 
ery had  become  impossible.  This  was  the  one 
great,  dominating,  overshadowing  thought. 

As  she  passed  out  of  the  delirium  of  her  joy  she 
grew  more  composed  and  considered  the  other 
phases  of  the  tragedy.  She  wondered  who  had 
committed  the  deed.  Was  it  the  woman  who  the 
paper  said  had  visited  him  last  ?  If  so,  in  what 
relation  did  she  stand  to  him  ?  Was  she  another 
victim,  who  had  been  tortured  as  she  had  been,  or 
worse,  tortured  into  a  condition  beyond  endurance 
and  escaped  from  her  troubles  by  these  awful 
means  ?  And  the  young  man  ?  Was  he  connected 
with  the  deed  in  any  manner? 

Then  the  sentiment  of  pity  took  possession  of 
her.  Forgetting  her  wrongs,  she  thought  of  his 
sudden  end,  in  the  flush  of  health  and  in  the  middle 
of  a  career  promising  success  and  distinction.  She 
thought  of  the  kindness  of  the  murdered  man  to 
her  when  they  were  young  and  unstained  by  the 
crime  they  had  committed — when  she  regarded  him 
as  the  one  helpful — her  only  friend. 

Then  there  flashed  upon  her  the  remembrance  of 


DR.   SHERMAN  READS    THE  NEWS.         57 

her  last  words  to  him  :  "  May  your  end  be  so  sudden 
you  can  not  pray  for  forgiveness.''' 

She  was  stunned:  What  a  swift,  terrible  realiza- 
tion of  her  impious  prayer.  She — she  was  respon- 
sible for  his  death.  Not  the  woman  or  the  man 
who  had  sped  the  fatal  bullet.  She — she  who  had 
prayed  for  his  horrible  death.  She  stood  crouching 
in  the  center  of  the  room,  horror  dilating  her  eyes 
and  paralyzing  her  limbs.  Oh,  kind  Heavens  ! 
Were  there  devils  from  hell  who  so  promptly  an- 
swered such  wicked,  wicked  prayers  !  Oh,  if  she 
could  but  recall  those  horrible  words  !  She  was 
guilty — as  guilty  as  those  who  killed  him,  for  she 
had  wished  for — prayed  for  the  end  he  had  met. 

She  threw  herself  upon  the  floor,  writhing  in  her. 
agony — abasing  herself  abjectly.  Tears  came  to 
her  relief,  and  she  wept  copiously. 

After  a  while  the  poignancy  of  her  grief  passed 
away,  and  she  fell  into  a  condition  of  mental  numb- 
ness in  which  she  seemed  incapable  of  appreciating 
what  had  occurred.  She  took  up  the  paper  and 
her  eyes  roved  over  the  description  of  the  tragedy 
without  taking  in  its  sense.  A  line  caught  her 
attention  : 

"  The  police  authorities  were  soon  notified,  and 
Captain  Lawton,  the  celebrated  detective,  to  whom 
the  discovery  of  the  murder  is  confided,  is  in  pos- 
session of  the  room  and  its  contents." 

Contents  ?  Her  letters  ?  Where  were  they  ? 
Heavens  !  Did  he  keep  them  in  his  room  ?  Would 
they  be  found  ?  Were  they  already  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  police  ? 

Now  she  was  thoroughly  alarmed.  Her  senses 
were  quickened  to  their  full  extent.  The  dark 
clouds  which  had  been  lifted  from  her  settled 
down  again  thicker  and  darker  than  before.  Now, 
she  knew  that  so  long  as  Renfrew  lived  and  did 
not  expose  her,  she  had  entertained  a  hope  he 


58          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

never  would.  In  the  first  flush  of  the  new  thought 
she  had  no  hopes  at  all.  If  the  police  authorities 
held  her  letters,  it  was  but  a  question  of  time  when 
they  would  communicate  the  information  they  con- 
tained to  Dr.  Sherman. 

She  was  distracted  by  the  new  misfortune.  For 
a-long  time  she  could  not  reason  upon  it.  She 
paced  the  floor  nearly  frantic.  She  tried  to  think 
whether  the  letters  were  signed  so  they  could  be 
recognized — whether  Dr.  Sherman  was  alluded  to 
by  name.  She  hoped  not, — oh  how  fervently  ! 
indeed  began  to  think  so. 

She  flung  herself  on  her  bed  in  an  agony  of  ap- 
prehension. By  and  by,  being  exhausted  by  the 
violence  of  the  emotion  she  had  undergone  and  the 
want  of  sleep,  she  slumbered. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CAPTAIN    LAWTON    AT    WORK. 

WHEN  Captain  Lawton  was  assigned  to  the 
duty  of  discovering  the  murderer  of  Renfrew, 
he  lost  no  time  in  going  to  the  actor's  apart- 
ments before  they  could  be  disturbed.  The  body 
of  the  dead  actor  had  been  removed.  In  every 
other  respect  the  rooms  were  as  when  the  murder 
had  been  discovered. 

Entering,  he  locked  the  door  behind  him,  and 
lighting  the  gas,  began  his  work  by  taking  a  com- 
prehensive survey  of  the  room. 

On  the  floor  lay  a  pistol.  This  first  attracted 
his  attention.  It  is  safe  to  venture  that  any  other 
man,  impelled  by  curiosity,  would  have  picked  it 
up  and  examined  the  instrument  by  which  the 
deed  had  been  committed.  But  so  far  from  doing 
so,  the  detective  walked  about  it  and  seemed  only 
desirous  of  determining  its  exact  location  upon  the 
floor.  Indeed  a  person  of  ordinary  sense  would 
have  said  that  for  a  man  enjoying  the  reputation 
the  detective  did,  he  was  guilty  of  a  number  of 
childish  actions  ;  for,  going  over  to  the  chair  in 
which  the  dead  actor  was  found,  he  carefully  ex- 
amined that  part  against  which  the  back  and  head 
rest,  and  placing  himself  in  the  chair,  took  a 
revolver  from  his  pocket.  Extracting  the  car- 
tridges, he  leaned  his  head  against  the  back  of  the 
chair,  placed  the  muzzle  of  the  revolver  against  his 
temple,  and  then  dropped  his  arm  quickly,  letting 
the  revolver  fall  from  his  hand.  It  fell  at  the  foot 

59 


60          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

of  the  chair  and  rested  about  eighteen  inches  from 
it.  Leaning  over  the  arm  of  the  chair,  he  looked 
from  the  revolver  to  the  pistol.  Then  he  paced  off 
the  distance  between  the  two,  and  found  that  it  was 
about  nine  feet. 

"  It  wasn't  suicide,"  he  muttered.  "  The  Inspec- 
tor is  right." 

Stooping  down,  he  picked  up  the  revolver,  and 
placing  himself  beside  the  chair,  facing  it  with  his 
back  to  the  pistol,  he  looked  over  his  shoulder  at 
it,  shifted  his  position  several  times,  and  then 
bending  over  and  curving  his  left  arm  at  right 
angles  with  his  shoulder,  he  seemed  to  be  embrac- 
ing something  while  he  pointed  the  revolver  at  his 
left  hand.  Dropping  his  right  arm  quickly  with  a 
swing,  he  let  the  revolver  slip  from  his  fingers.  It 
fell  very  close  to  the  pistol  on  the  floor. 

"Yes,"  he  remarked  again,  "that  is  the  way  it 
was  done." 

He  picked  up  the  revolver,  replaced  the  car- 
tridges, and  returned  it  to  his  pocket.  Now  he 
picked  up  the  pistol  and  gave  it  a  close  examina- 
tion. 

It  was  not  a  revolver,  but  a  single-barreled  pistol, 
the  like  of  which  he  had  never  seen.  Its  barrel 
was  steel,  once  highly  polished,  but  now  dimmed 
and  blackened  by  time  and  neglect.  A  short  ram- 
rod was  held  in  place  under  the  barrel  in  a  groove 
by  loops  of  steel.  It  was  exploded  by  means  of 
percussion  caps,  by  an  old-fashioned  trigger  and 
hammer.  The  handle  was  ivory,  elaborately  carved 
into  diminutive  nude  figures  of  women,  yellowed 
by  time. 

"A  woman's  toy,"  he  muttered,  "but  caused 
death  all  the  same." 

A  bit  of  thread  in  the  head  of  one  of  the  screws 
which  fastened  the  ivory  caught  his  attention.  He 
looked  at  it  more  closely,  and  then  taking  a  small 


CAPTAIN  LAW  TON  AT    WORK:.  1 

magnifying-glass  from  his  pocket  looked  at  the 
thread  through  it. 

"  A  bit  of  silk  thread,"  he  muttered. 

Then  turning  the  pistol  over  he  noticed  a  slight 
purplish  stain  upon  the  edge  of  the  handle. 

'•  One  of  a  pair,"  he  muttered  again  ;  "lies  in  a 
case  with  a  purple  velvet  bed  and  purple  satin 
lining  to  the  cover,  when  at  home,  I'll  bet." 

As  he  was  about  to  put  it  into  his  pocket,  he 
lifted  it  quickly  to  his  nose. 

"  Scented,  by  Jove  !  "  he  said  aloud  ;  then,  drop- 
ping his  voice,  "  That  settles  it  in  my  mind.  It 
belongs  to  a  woman, — patchouli." 

As  he  put  it  in  his  pocket  he  said  : 

"  Some  one  must  go  on  a  hunt  for  its  mate.  A 
difficult  job,  for  if  not  of  foreign  manufacture,  I'm 
a  Dutchman.  Looks  more  like  a  piece  of  bric-a- 
brac  than  a  shooter." 

The  floor  now  claimed  his  attention,  and  he 
overlooked  every  square  inch  of  it,  but  his  search 
was  not  rewarded. 

He  went  to  the  center-table.  A  variety  of 
articles  covered  it.  A  pair  of  gloves,  not  new  ;  a 
silver  cigarette-case,  half  filled  ;  a  few  cigars  ;  a 
rumpled  handkerchief  ;  two  or  three  cheap  editions 
of  foreign  novels  ;  one  or  two  bound  books ;  a 
pocket-knife  ;  a  portfolio,  never  used ;  two  or 
three  play-books  ;  a  watch  and  chain,  the  watch 
stopped  ;  a  small  morocco-covered  memorandum 
book. 

This  the  detective  picked  up  and  opened.  He 
read  a  few  minutes,  and  then  drawing  a  chair  to 
the  table  seated  himself  and  began  at  the  beginning. 

It  was  evidently  a  statement  of  the  actor's  receipts 
of  money  for  nearly  two  years  prior.  At  inter- 
vals of  seven  days  there  was  this  item  "sal.  $75." 
These  entries  began  on  the  ist  of  September  and 
ceased  on  the  first  of  June. 


62         JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT, 

There' were  other  entries  thus  :  "Oct.  17,  G.  F. 
$250";  "Nov.  5,  H.  M.  $100  ";  "Nov.  25,  T.  W. 
$500";  "Dec.  8,  L.  A.  $500",  "Dec.  15,  G.  F. 
$1000";  "Dec.  19,  L.  A.  $250";  "  F"eb.  12,  D. 
Dux  $500." 

These  entries  were  repeated  again  and  again, 
with  amounts  ranging  from  $50  to  $1000  set 
opposite  the  letters,  those  most  frequently  occurring 
being  "  G.  F."  "  D.  Dux,"  and  "  L.  A." 

Twice  the  detective  noticed  that  in  the  case  of 
"  L.  A."  the  "  A  "  had  been  changed  to  "  S,"  or 
"  S "  changed  to  "A,"  he  could  not  tell  which. 
Once  "  D.  Dux "  had  clearly  been  written  over 
"  G.  F."  and  he  observed  that  while  "  G.  F." 
ceased  to  appear  thereafter,  that  was  the  first  time 
"  D.  Dux  "  made  its  appearance. 

Having  exhausted  the  book  he  laid  it  back  on 
the  table,  saying  : 

"  If  these  sums  represent  his  receipts,  then  he 
must  have  had  an  income  of  nearly  $10,000  a 
year." 

The  cabinet  in  the  corner  next  attracted  his 
attention.  The  keys  were  in  the  lock  and  he 
opened  it.  The  receptacle  was  small  and  seemed 
nearly  .filled  with  letters  neatly  tied  in  packages. 
Nothing  else.  Without  touching  anything  he 
looked  at  it  a  long  time. 

"It  is  very  strange  I  can  not  find  a  single  photo- 
graph of  a  woman  in  the  place,"  he  muttered. 

He  turned  from  the  cabinet  and  went  about  the 
room  as  if  in  quest  of  some  particular  thing.  He 
opened  drawers  of  tables,  peered  into  ornaments  ; 
went  into  the  sleeping-room  and  opened  all  the 
bureau  drawers,  and  finally  returned  to  the  cabinet. 

"  Not  a  photo,"  he  muttered. 

Then  he  lookout  all  the  letters  and  carried  them 
to  the  table  in  the  center  of  the  room,  and  settled 
himself  to  read  them. 


CAPTAIN  LAW  TON  AT    WORK.  63 

A  rapid  examination  of  them  all  showed  him 
that  the  letters  from  one  person  were  tied  up  in 
one  package,  and  that  they  were  methodically 
arranged  in  the  order  of  their  dates.  All  were 
from  ladies. 

He  began  a  systematic  reading  of  them.  He 
took  the  first  package  at  his  hand. 

"  DEAR  MR.  RENFREW  : 

"  I  saw  your  performance  of  0/a/last  night.  This  morn- 
ing I  hasten  to  tell  you  what  pleasure  it  gave  me.  You  were 
lovely  and  your  costume  just  too  charming.  Did  you  see  me  ? 
Once  I  thought  you  did. 

"  HATTIE." 

"  MONDAY  AFTERNOON. 

"Your  apology  is  sufficient  and  you  are  forgiven.  To- 
morrow at  three  I  shop  at  Macy's  alone,  and  if  any  imperti- 
nent man  with  lovely  black  eyes  should  be  impudent  enough 
to  speak  to  me  on  Fourteenth  street,  why,  being  alone,  I  would 
not  dare  to  resent  it. 

"  HATTIE." 

"  FRIDAY  EVENING. 

"  I  said  no,  this  afternoon,  but  have  regretted  it  since.  See 
how  candid  I  am.  I  am  afraid  it  is  all  very  improper,  but — 
oh,  well,  I  shall  walk  on  Broadway  at  four  to-morrow — shall 
be  in  the  neighborhood  of  Tiffany's. 

"  HATTIE." 

"  WEDNESDAY  EVENING. 

"  I  have  stolen  away  to  think  over  again  our  delicious  cosey 
dinner  all  alone  by  our  own  two  selves,  with  no  one  looking 
,  on.  I  got  home,  not  in  time  to  escape  mater,  who  wanted  to 
•  know  you  know,  which  was  easily  overcome,  but  time  enough 
to  escape  questioning  from  pater.  If  you  dare  to  call  to- 
morrow, I  dare  to  have  you,  only  your  name  must  be — say, 
say  Thompson — Thompson  with  a  P. 

"  HATTIE  M. 

"You  were  very,  very  naughty  to  kiss  me  this  afternoon  and 
I  will  never,  never  forgive  you." 

"TUESDAY  AFTERNOON. 

"  I  have  thought  it  all  over.  Your  plan  is  audacious.  But 
if  you  can  play  the  role  of  a  young  lad  of  twenty,  the  brother 
of  a  friend  in  Brooklyn  (who,  by  the  way,  is  in  Philadelphia) 


64         JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

can  bring  me  home  by  ten  at  night  and  escape  from  the  door 
without  being  seen,  I  think  it  can  be  accomplished.  I  will  be 
at  Fulton  Ferry,  Brooklyn  side,  at  three  to-morrow.  Be 
prompt,  my  precious,  and  if  you  are,  perhaps  before  we  get  home 
I'll—I'll— I'll  let  you  kiss  me.  There. 

"HATTIE." 

"  TUESDAY  MIDNIGHT. 

"  Most  successful.  Was  questioned  but  little.  Dada  at 
the  club.  Mama  too  busy  with  charity  committee.  Sister  at 
a  theater  party.  Brother  out  after  his  own  tootsey-wootsey. 
Oh,  the  bliss — the  bliss  of  those  hours.  They  were  all  too 
short.  I  await  with  impatience  our  next  meeting. 

"H.  M." 

The  detective  turned  to  the  book  and  looked  at 
the  first  entry  of  H.  M.  It  was  of  a  date  subse- 
quent to  that  of  the  last  letter  he  had  read. 

He  continued  his  reading  of  letters  indicative  of 
stolen  interviews,  of  assignations  for  the  future, 
growing  more  and  more  unguarded  in  expressions 
of  affection  and  passion.  Then  after  a  long  period 
of  silence  he  found  this  one  : 

"  MONDAY  AFTERNOON. 

"  I  can  not  tell  you  how  it  grieves  me  to  refuse  you  any- 
thing. I  have  not  done  it  in  the  past,  but  this  I  can  not  pos- 
sibly do.  I  have  no  money  and  I  have  gotten  all  I  can  get 
from  father  or  mother  for  a  long  time. 

"  H.  M." 

"  TUESDAY  EVENING. 

"  I  came  home  from  the  play  to  find  your  letter.  You  are 
exacting — nay,  impeninent.  There  is  a  tone  of  command  that 
I  am  not  disposed  to  submit  to. 

"H.  M." 

"  WEDNESDAY  AFTERNOON. 
"  I  will  meet  you." 

"  WEDNESDAY  NIGHT. 

"  My  dream  is  over.  I  am  disilluzionized.  I  know  you 
now  for  what  you  are.  I  know  my  danger — that  you  threaten 
me  with  ruin.  The  end  is  come.  Do  not  try  to  see  me  or 
write  to  me.  All  is  over  between  us. 

"  H.  M." 


CAPTAIN  LA  WTO  N  AT    WORK.  65 

"  FRIDAY  NIGHT. 

"  Don't  try  to  frighten  me,  for  I  won't  be  frightened.  Go  to 
my  father  or  to  my  brother  if  you  dare  with  my  letters.  Do 
you  know  what  would  happen  ?  You  would  be  dead  a  second 
after  they  met  you,  no  matter  what  occurred  to  me.  Suppose 
you  have  my  letters,  if  you  should  attempt  to  use  them  they 
would  only  cause  your  death  !  What  a  contemptible  thing 
you  are  ! 

"H.  M." 

This  was  the  last.  On  this  envelope  was  in- 
dorsed in  pencil  : 

"  Played  out  to  the  end.  Can  go  no  further.  She  is  as 
bold  as  a  lion  and  as  brave  as  a  soldier." 

The  detective  read  letter  after  letter  and  pack- 
age after  package.  They  differed  only  in  form  of 
expression.  Beginning  modestly  they  increased  in 
warmth  and  finally  cooled  off  to  the  financial  stage, 
ending  in  pleadings,  defiances,  and  criminations,  as 
the  various  correspondents  received  the  unfolding 
of  his  plots.  In  the  memorandum  book  was  found 
an  entry  of  initials  to  correspond  with  the  signa- 
tures to  the  letters.  On  some  of  the  packages  were 
indorsed  in  lead  pencil  these  comments  :  "  Worked 
i  it."  "  Exhausted."  '•  Wouldn't  have  it."  "  Ab- 
ject failure." 

"  A  most  methodical  rascal,"  said  the  detective 
to  himself. 

There  were  but  three  packages  remaining  when 
the  Captain  picked  up  the  next  at  his  hand.  On 
removing  the  elastics  from  it,  he  noticed  that  the 
first  letter  was  of  recent  date,  and  was  evidently 
written  some  time  after  the  intrigue  was  in  full 
course  : 

"Sept.  18,  1883. 
"  DEAR  CYRIL-. 

"  You  must  not  repeat  your  reckless  attempt  to  see  me  at 
my  house.  How  could  you  be  so  imprudent  ?  You  put  me  in 
great  peril.  Nothing  bnt  my  presence  of  mind  in  assuming 
that  you  came  about  upholstery  saved  me.  My  husband  is 


66          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

very  suspicious  and  an  experienced  man  of  the  world.  For 
Heaven's  sake  be  more  prudent.  Use  the  channels  of  com- 
munication we  have  agreed  upon  only,  and  let  the  written 
communications  be  as  few  as  possible.  I  tremble  still,  from 
the  fright  you  have  given  me. 

"DOLLIE  DUX." 

A  week  elapses. 

"  Do  you  seek  to  compromise  me  ?  My  husband  observed 
your  frequent  glances  from  the  stage,  and  commented  on  what 
he  was  pleased  to  call  your  impertinence  in  eying  every  pretty 
woman  you  saw.  What  possessed  you  ?  Do  you  want  to 
advertise  your  capture  ?  I  will  meet  you  this  afternoon  at  the 
usual  time  and  place. 

"  DOLLIE  Dux." 

Other  letters  followed  in  the  same  strain,  and 
then  there  was  this  one  : 

"  Oct.  20. 

"  Are  you  mad  or  am  I  ?  I  can  not  do  it.  Think  what  you 
have  had.  The  tone  of  your  letter  frightens  me. 

"  DOLLIE  Dux." 
Then,  again,  two  days  later  : 

"  God  help  me  !  I'll  come  with  it,  but  I  must  pledge  my 
d  r.monds  to  do  it.  Where  will  this  lead  to  ?  You  will  drive 
uic  crazy. 

"  DOLLIE  Dux." 

A  month  later  she  writes  : 

"  Only  a  few  weeks  of  peace.  You  are  a  monster.  I  can 
not  sleep,  and  I  weep  most  of  the  day.  I  have  gotten  into 
such  a  nervous  condition  that  I  start  at  the  slightest  noise. 
You  must  stop  or  I  shall  become  a  maniac. 

"  DOLLIE  D." 

A  day  later  : 

"  It  is  not  because  I  do  not  want  to,  but  because  I  can  not. 
I  have  not  the  sum  nor  do  I  know  where  to  get  it. 

"D.  D." 

Two  days  later  : 

"  Do  not  do  anything  till  I  see  you. 

"D.  D." 

The  next  day  and  the  day  of  the  murder  : 

"  I  am  distracted.  Yes,  I  am  in  your  power.  I  am  des- 
perate. I  have  pledged  everything  I  dare  to.  I  do  not  know 


CAPTAIN  LAW  TON  AT    WORK.  67 

where  or  how  to  turn.  Every  step  I  take  to  comply  with 
your  insatiate  demands  brings  me  one  step  nearer  exposure.  I 
wish  I  could  die.  Death  would  be  a  happy  release.  But  I 
will  see  you  this  afternoon.  Be  la  to  meet  me. 

"  DOLLIE  Dux." 

The  detective  hurriedly  satisfied  himself  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  remaining  packages,  and  finding 
nothing  significant  in  the  letters  composing  them, 
returned  again  to  those  signed  "  Dollie  Dux."  He 
spread  them  open  before  him  and  studied  them 
intently. 

Finally  he  folded  them  up  and  rearranged  them, 
and  as  he  did  so  he  said  : 

"  That  is  the  woman.  That  is  the  woman  who 
killed  Renfrew.  She  is  an  educated  woman,  of 
wealth  and  station,  a  timid,  nervous,  excitable 
woman  driven  to  desperation  —  almost  frantic 
through  fear  and  nervousness.  Those  are  the 
kind  of  women  who  do  desperate  things  when 
goaded  too  far.  Renfrew,  my  boy,  you  should  have 
known  that.  You  should  have  seen  that  it  was  her 
ruin  or  your  death.  You  turned  the  screw  of  the 
rack  once  too  often." 

"  It  is  not  easy,"  he  said,  after  stopping  to  cum- 
mune  with  himself.  "  It  will  be  difficult  to  trace 
that  woman.  The  letters  do  not  give  a  clue.  How 
guardedly  she  has  written.  The  signature  is  evi- 
dently an  assumed  one.  I  must  endeavor  to  find 
:out  the  names  of  the  women  he  associated  with,  and 
get  a  look  at  them." 

He  took  the  pistol  from  his  pocket  and  placed 
it  on  top  the  letters,  and  wrapped  them  all  up  in  a 
newspaper  he  took  from  his  pocket. 

Taking  the  bundle  under  his  arm  and  placing  his 
hat  upon  his  head,  he  said  aloud  : 

"  Renfrew  was  killed  by  a  woman — a  married 
woman  of  wealth,  station,  and  education,  with  whom 
he  was  conducting  an  intrigue,  whom  he  was 


68          JACK  CORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

blackmailing,  and  whom  he  had  threatened  to  ruin — • 
a  woman  who  had  a  peculiar  pistol  and  may  yet 
have  its  mate — a  woman  who  signed  her  letters 
'  Dollie  Dux.'  That's  what  this  night's  work  has 
amounted  to." 

He  looked  around  the  room.  After  a  moment 
he  said  : 

"  That  woman  got  out  without  any  one  seeing 
her.  How  it  was  that  the  report  of  the  pistol  was 
not  heard  I  cannot  understand.  I  know  that  the 
muzzle  was  pressed  against  his  head,  and  that 
deadened  the  sound,  but  surely  some  one  ought  to 
have  heard  it.  I'll  inquire  into  this." 

He  went  into  the  hall  and  called  the  janitor. 

"  Who  occupies  the  rooms  adjoining  those  of 
Renfrew  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Mr.  Steele." 

"  Who  is  he  ?  " 

"A  lawyer." 

"  Was  he  in  his  room  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  No,  he  is  in  Washington — went  day  before  yes- 
terday, and  isn't  back  yet." 

"Was  anybody  there  ?  " 

"  No.     I  have  his  keys." 

"  Who  has  the  room  above  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Downing." 

"  Was  he  in  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  nor  any  one  else.  You  see  it  was  at  a 
time  of  day  when  the  gentlemen  were  about  their 
business." 

"  Yes,  I  presume  so.     What  is  below  ?  " 

"  A  doctor's  office.     It  isn't  occupied." 

"  Who  has  that  room  ?  "  pointing  to  one  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  corridor. 

"  Mr.  Tyrell.  He  was  in  about  that  time,  and  is 
now." 

"  I'll  call  on  him." 

He  rapped  on  the  door  and  was  admitted. 


CAPTAIN  LAWTON  AT    WORK.  69 

Mr.  Tyrell.  however,  had  not  heard  an  explosion 
when  he  returned  about  half-past  three  o'clock. 
While  stopping  to  unlock  the  door  he  had  heard 
the  angry  tones  of  Renfrew's  voice,  and  the  agi- 
tated tones  of  a  woman  in  reply.  He  had  not  paid 
attention  to  it,  for  it  was  not  uncommon  to  hear  such 
things  in  Renfrew's  rooms.  Knowing  him  to  bean 
actor  he  thought  a  rehearsal  was  going  on.  Indeed, 
Renfrew,  after  an  unusually  noisy  time  a  year  pre- 
vious, had  told  him  so.  After  entering  his  room  he 
had  gone  to  his  bath,  which  was  in  the  most  remote 
part  of  his  suite.  The  shot  might  have  been  fired 
while  the  water  was  running,  or,  indeed,  after  he  had 
gone  out  again,  since  having  bathed  he  dressed,  and 
went  out  immediately. 

All  effort  upon  the  part  of  the  detective  failed  to 
elicit  from  the  janitor  and  his  son  anything  like  a 
description  of  either  of  the  two  women  who  had  called 
on  Renfrew,  for  they  were  both  so  closely  veiled 
that  their  faces  were  not  to  be  recognized,  and  as 
to  the  young  man  they  so  flatly  contradicted 
each  other  as  to  his  dress  and  appearance,  the  Cap- 
tain began  to  believe  that  not  less  than  two  had 
called  upon  the  dead  actor  before  the  visits  of  the 
two  women. 

It  was  now  not  far  from  midnight,  so  he  went  to 
his  rest. 

Early  the  next  morning  he  began  an  industrious 
inquiry  among  the  associates  and  acquaintances  of 
the  murdered  man.  Here  apparently  the  way  was 
as  dark  as  in  any  other  direction. 

These  were  the  facts  he  elicited  : 

Renfrew  had  not  a  single  intimate  in  his  profes- 
sion. 

No  one  could  suggest  the  name  of  any  man  with 
whom  he  was  on  terms  of  intimacy — he  had  been 
dubbed  in  the  profession  "  The  Lone  Star." 

No  one  could  suggest  the  name  of  a  woman  with 


7°          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

whom  he  was  acquainted  or  was  intimate.  He  had 
at  long  intervals  been  seen  on  the  street  with  some, 
but  who,  none  could  tell. 

No  one  knew  anything  about  his  antecedents, 
where  he  came  from,  where  his  family  was,  or  to 
what  country  he  owed  nativity. 

A  vague  tradition  existed  that  his  right  name  was 
Jacob  Myers,  but  no  one  could  confirm  it,  and  it 
was  disbelieved,  although  doubtless  "  Cyril  Ren- 
frew "  was  a  nom  de  the'dtre. 

"  Most  mysterious,"  was  the  Captain's  comment  on 
this  result.  "  It  grows  thicker  and  thicker.  I'll  go 
to  the  Inspector,  make  him  understand  the  difficul- 
ties, and  hear  what  he  has  to  say;  then  I'll  write  up 
my  report." 


CHAPTER  X. 
CAPTAIN  LAWTON'S  VISITOR. 

THE  detective  had  not  been  long  at  the  report, 
the  writing  of  which  he  had  promised  himself 
that  afternoon,  when  an  attendant  announced 
that  a  lady  wished  to  see  him. 

"  Who  is  she  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  up  from  his 
writing. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Didn't  she  give  you  a  card  ?  " 

"  No  ;  she  said  you  wouldn't  know  the  name." 

"  Admit  her." 

A  richly  clad  woman,  closely  veiled,  speedily  fol- 
lowed on  his  words. 

The  Captain  greeted  her  with  a  courtgous  bow, 
and  placed  a  chair  for  his  visitor,  who  probably  did 
not  notice  that  it  was  so  placed  that  the  light  fell 
on  her  face,  while  the  detective  was  in  the 
shadow. 

"  Do  I  address  Captain  Lawton  ?  "  the  lady 
asked  in  a  sweet,  low  voice,  which  trembled  either 
with  agitation  or  timidity. 

"  Yes,  madam.     Please  take  this  seat." 

She  took  the  chair  indicated,  and  began  to  nerv- 
ously remove  one  of  her  gloves. 

The  detective  waited  for  her  to  make  her  busi- 
ness known.  While  waiting  he  rapidly  concluded 
that  she  was  young  from  the  outlines  of  her  form, 
of  the  higher  walks  of  life  from  her  air,  and  rich 
from  the  diamonds  sparkling  upon  the  white  fin- 
gers of  her  ungloved  hand. 


72          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

Evidently  she  was  greatly  embarrassed,  and  foi 
a  long  time  did  not  speak. 

The  Captain  did  not  assist  her.  In  this  he  was 
governed  by  purpose. 

Finally,  she  timidly  ventured  the  remark  : 

"  I  find  myself  in  an  unpleasant  predicament, 
and  I  thought  perhaps  you  might  assist  me." 

"  I  am  at  your  service,"  replied  the  Captain. 
"  To  whom  have  I  the  honor  of  talking  ?  " 

"  Is  it  necessary  that  I  should  disclose  my  name  ? " 

The  Captain  smiled. 

*'  I  imagine  I  shall  not  be  able  to  assist  you  much 
if  I  am  compelled  to  walk  in  the  dark." 

(/  Perhaps  so." 

After  some  hesitation,  during  which  she  drew  off 
the  other  glove  and  nervously  rolled  and  unrolled 
the  two,  she  continued  : 

"  Some  years  ago  I  was  guilty  of  a  foolish  indis- 
cretion which  has  brought  me  into  much  trouble. 
My  father  is  a  stern  man,  strict  in  his  ideas  of  pro- 
priety. The  indiscretion  was  a  silly  flirtation  with 
a  man,  who,  having  received  letters  from  me, 
threatened  to  use  them  to  my  disadvantage  if  I 
did  not  pay  largely  for  his  silence." 

"  I  wonder  if  this  touches  the  Renfrew  case  ?  " 
thought  the  detective.  Aloud  he  said  : 

"  And  you  want  me  to  compel  him  to  discontinue 
his  persecutions — to  make  him  yield  up  those 
letters  ? " 

"  The  persecutions  are  discontinued,  but  I  would 
like  to  have  the  letters." 

"  Who  is  the  person  ?  " 

"Must  I  tell  that?" 

The  Captain  smiled  at  her  innocent  question. 

"  If  I  am  not  to  know  the  name  of  the  person 
who  wrote  the  letters,  nor  that  of  the  person  to 
whom  they  were  addressed,  I  can  not  see  how  I 
can  assist  you." 


CAPTAIN  LAWTON'S    VISITOR.  73 

"  He  is  dead." 

"  Oh,  then  they  are  in  the  hands  of  some  one, 
you  think  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  The  name  of  that  person,  then  ?  " 

"  It  is  yourself." 

The  Captain  became  much  interested.  "  What  a 
little  idiot  she  is,"  he  thought,  "  not  to  see  that 
I  already  know  the  name  of  the  man  !  " 

Aloud  he  said  : 

"  Oh.  If  I  do  not  possess  them,"  he  said  blandly, 
"  I  know  where  they  are." 

"  But  you  do  not  know  who  the  man  is,  for  I 
have  not  told  you." 

"  Pardon  me,  I  do.  The  man  was  Renfrew,  the 
actor." 

The  woman  started  with  surprise  and  alarm. 

"  Are  you  a  wizard  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  The  only  letters  in  my  possession 
addressed  by  a  woman  to  a  man  who  was  black- 
mailing her,  are  those  addressed  to  Renfrew.  And 
Renfrew  is  dead." 

"  Then,"  said  the  lady,  "  while  I  was  carefully 
concealing  the  name,  I  was  telling  you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  detective,  smiling,  "  and  you 
come  to  me  because  of  his  murder." 

"  Why,  how  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  It  all  follows  from  the  first.  You  read  the  ac- 
count of  his  murder,  you  saw  that  the  case  had 
been  placed  in  my  charge,  you  feared  that  the  let- 
ters coming  into  my  hands  would  be  made  public, 
and  you  would  be  exposed.  Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  the  lady,  apparently  overwhelmed 
with  surprise  at  the  rapidity  and  accuracy  of  his 
conclusions.  "  Since  you  know  so  much  you  make 
my  way  easier.  Won't  you  give  them  to  me  ?  They 
are  signed  Lucy.  That  is  all,  I  am  quite  sure." 

"  How  long  is  it  since  his  persecutions  ceased  ?" 


74          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

asked  the  Captain,  paying  no  heed  to  her  re- 
quest. 

"  Only  with  his  death." 

The  Captain  muttered  to  himself,  "  Can  this  be 
the  woman  ? " 

After  a  moment's  thought  he  partially  rejected 
the  idea,  for  he  reasoned  that  a  woman  who  had 
done  the  deed  would  not  go  straight  to  the  man 
who  was  searching  for  the  murderer.  Then  he 
wished  she  would  lift  her  veil  so  that  he  could  look 
at  her  face. 

Aloud  he  said  : 

"  So  recent,  was  it,  indeed  ? " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  and  the  ice  being  broken  she 
was  more  at  ease.  "  You  will  have  no  difficulty  in 
determining  them.  I  am  not  certain,  of  course, 
that  you  have  them.  I  do  not  know  whether  he 
kept  them  at  his  rooms  or  on  his  person." 

"  You  say  they  were  signed—"  stopping  to  have 
her  pronounce  the  name. 

"  Lucy." 

"  That  is  your  name  ? " 

"  Yes.     They  were  foolish,  silly  letters." 

Then  she  thought,  "  If  he  has  read  them,  he  will 
know  that  is  not  true.  Perhaps  he  has  not  ;  if  he 
is  a  gentleman,  and  he  looks  like  one,  he  has 
not." 

The  Captain  would  have  laughed  heartily  could 
he  have  read  her  thoughts,  but  he  was  thinking 
less  about  the  letters  than  of  her  relation  to  the 
man  and  the  deed. 

However,  he  stretched  forth  his  hand  and  took 
from  the  desk  the  sheet  upon  which  he  was  writing 
when  he  was  interrupted  by  her  entrance,  and  ex- 
amining it  carefully,  replied  : 

"  There  were  no  letters  found  signed  '  Lucy.' 
You  are  quite  sure  they  were  so  signed  ? " 

"  Quite,"  she  replied,  as  she  threw  the  veil  from 


CA  P  7 'A  2W  LAW  TON '  S    VI 'SI  TOR.  7  5 

her  face,  disclosing  a  pair  of  very  earnest  eyes  and 
features  of  rare  beauty. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  he  could  have  done  with 
them?"  she  queried  appealingly. 

"  That  woman  never  committed  the  murder,  I 
am  quite  certain,"  he  said  to  himself. 

He  laughed  as  he  said  to  her  : 

"  You  credit  me  with  knowing  more  than  I  do. 
Had  he  any  other  place  where  he  deposited  his 
valuables  ? " 

She  looked  at  him  wonderingly,  and  replied  quite 
innocently  : 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  knew  nothing  of  his  life  or 
habits.  Do  you  suppose  he  could  have  sent  them 
to  my  father  ?" 

"  Perhaps  if  I  knew  your  father  I  might  be  able 
to  judge,"  replied  the  detective,  trying  his  hand  at 
a  little  fishing. 

He  was  disappointed. 

"  No,"  she  said,  thinking  aloud,  "he  could  not 
have  done  that,  for  I  would  have  heard  of  it  before 
this." 

The  Captain  thought  to  take  her  by  surprise  and 
obtain  an  admission  from  her  which  he  could  follow 
up  to  his  advantage. 

"  Did  he  have  them  when  you  saw  him  yesterday  ?" 

"  Saw  him  yesterday,"  she  repeated.  "  How  do 
you  know  I  saw  him  yesterday  ?" 

"  I  did  not  know  it  until  this  moment.  At  what 
hour  did  you  call  upon  him  ?" 

Lucy  hesitated  for  a  time,  nearly  overcome  by 
what  she  considered  the  supernatural  shrewdness 
of  the  man,  and  not  a  little  awed  by  his  masterful- 
ness. 

"  Between  twelve  and  one — about  half-past 
twelve,"  she  replied. 

"  Who  were  the  young  man  and  lady  who  called 
after  you  ?  " 


76          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  I  don't  know." 

There  was  the  same  wondering  expression  on  her 
face  as  when  he  asked  if  she  knew  whether  Ren- 
frew had  another  place  where  he  left  his  valuables, 
as  if  she  were  surprised  at  his  question,  and  the  ex- 
pression caused  the  detective  to  believe  that  she 
was  innocent  of  any  complicity  in  the  deed. 

"  Did  you  ask  him  for  the  letters  ?  " 

"  No,  I  did  not." 

"  What  did  you  go  to  see  him  for,  then  ? " 

"  To  beg  he  would  not  demand  the  sum  he  re- 
quested and  not  send  the  letters  to  my  father." 

"  What  was  the  sum  he  wanted  ?  " 

Lucy  now  began  to  appreciate  the  blunder  she 
had  made  in  going  to  the  detective,  for  she  feared 
his  questions  would  lead  to  a  revelation  of  her 
secret.  She  was  put  on  her  guard  by  the  thought, 
and  she  summoned  to  her  aid  all  her  intelligence. 

"  It  was  two  thousand  dollars,  and  I  did  not  have 
it  and  could  not  get  it." 

"  A  large  sum,"  said  the  detective.  "  What  did 
he  say  to  you  ?  " 

"  He  laughed  at  me  and  told  me  I  must  give  it 
to  him  by  to-night,  or  he  would  send  my  letters  to 
my  father  ?  " 

"  What  did  you  reply  ?  " 

"  I  told  him  that  he  would  drive  me  to  kill 
myself," 

"  You  must  have  felt  relieved  when  you  saw  that 
he  was  killed  ?" 

The  detective  had  asked  this  question  deliber- 
ately, and  he  watched  her  keenly  as  she  replied  ; 
he  noticed  that  her  face  reddened. 

"  I  was  very  wicked  over  that,"  she  replied,  "  for 
the  first  sensation  was  relief  and  gladness,  but  the 
thought  was  soon  lost  in  the  fear  that  exposure 
would  come  from  another  source." 

The   Captain   thought   as   she   looked    at    him, 


CAPTAIN  LAWTON'S    VISITOR.  77 

shame,  not  remorse,  expressed  on  her  face,  that 
she  certainly  was  not  the  woman. 

"  When  did  you  write  your  last  letter  to  him  ?  " 

"  About  four  years  ago." 

Now  it  was  the  Captain's  turn  to  be  surprised. 

"  How  did  you  communicate  with  him  ?  " 

"  I  never  did  unless  he  wrote  to  me,  demanding 
that  I  meet  him  and  bring  him- money." 

"  Where  did  you  meet  him  ?  " 

"  Usually  on  the  street  or  in  the  park." 

"  Have  you  been  giving  him  money  all  these  four 
years  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Such  large  amounts  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  The  largest  he  demanded  before  was 
five  hundred  dollars,  and  that  only  once.  He 
usually  asked  for  half  that  amount.  I  never  wrote 
to  him  after  I  saw  the  use  he  put  my  letters  to." 

"  You  have  his  letters  demanding  money  ? " 

"  No,  I  burned  them  as  I  received  them.  I  was 
ashamed  and  afraid  to  keep  them." 

"  Now,  isn't  that  just  like  a  woman  !"  said  the 
detective.  "  Why,  my  child,  the  first  one  was  your 
protection,  and  a  threat  of  exposing  him  for  black- 
mailing would  have  silenced  him  for  ever.  He 
traded  on  your  fears  and  innocence.  Didn't  you 
ever  visit  him  at  his  rooms  ?  " 

"  Never  until  yesterday." 

"  Where  did  you  first  meet  him  ?  " 

Lucy  had  been  able  to  answer  him  truthfully 
until  then,  but  now  she  could  not  do  it.  Her  quick 
intelligence  told  her  she  must  make  an  answer  of 
some  kind,  and  she  parried  to  gain  time. 

"  Must  I  tell  that  ? "  she  asked  appealingly. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  far  better,"  he  replied 
gently ;  "  I  am  not  asking  these  questions  from  idle 
curiosity." 

"  But  it  is  humiliating,"  she  replied. 


78          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Telling  me  is  like  talking  to  your  father-con- 
fessor, your  physician,  your  lawyer,"  he  said  assur- 
ingly,  if  not  truthfully. 

His  untruth  was  met  with  another  even  more 
adroit. 

"  If  I  must  I  suppose  I  must.  I  saw  him  on  the 
stage,  and  was  silly  enough  to  write  him  how  much 
I  admired  him.  I  did  this  two  or  three  times,  and 
then  I  gave  him  an  address  and  asked  him  to  reply. 
He  did  so,  and  after  a  while  he  asked  me  to  meet 
him  on  Broadway,  wear  a  red  rose  on  my  coat,  and 
he  would  do  the  same.  We  did,  and  the  flirtation 
began." 

"  Oh,  the  silly  moths  of  girls  !  "  commented  the 
detective,  well  satisfied.  "  That  was  how  long  ago?" 

"  Five  years." 

"  And  you  were  how  old  ?" 

"  Seventeen." 

"You  have  paid  dearly  for  your  folly." 

"  I  have,  indeed." 

"  Do  you  know  of  any  one  who  called  herself 
'Dolly  Dux'?" 

"  No,"  again  with  that  wondering  expression. 

"Did  you  know  that  Renfrew  treated  other 
women  as  he  did  you  ?" 

"  No,  I  supposed  I  was  the  only  one." 

The  Captain  said  to  himself  that  she  was  evidently 
an  innocent,  and  that  he  had  extracted  all  he  could 
from  her,  and  he  would  close  the  interview. 

"  You  have  not  given  me  your  name  yet  ?" 

"  Since  you  have  not  the  letters  I  do  not  think  it 
necessary.  You  can  not  help  me,  you  see." 

The  Captain  smiled. 

"  Oh,  that  is  as  you  please,  of  course." 

His  visitor  prepared  to  depart. 

"  If  these  letters  were  to  come  into  my  posses- 
sion, I  would  not  be  able  to  communicate  with 
you." 


CAPTAIN  LAWTON'S    VISITOR.  79 


She  drew  her  veil  over  her  face,  saying  as  she 
did  so  : 

"  Oh,  I  shall  call  on  you  again  in  a  week.  If 
you  should  find  them  retain  them  until  I  come." 

The  Captain  smiled  again,  and,  bowing  politely, 
accompanied  her  to  the  outer  office. 

Two  or  three  un-uniformed  men  were  lounging  in 
the  room,  to  one  of  whom  the  captain  made  a  rapid 
signal. 

He  conducted  his  visitor  to  the  outer  door, 
bowed  her  out,  and  then  turning  quickly  to  the 
man,  who  had  followed  him  close  behind,  said  : 

"  Follow  her,  don't  let  her  get  out  of  your  sight  ; 
tell  me  what  her  name  is  and  where  she  lives." 

Returning  to  his  private  office,  communing  with 
himself  he  said  : 

"  No,  she  has  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  mur- 
der. She  is  a  girl  standing  in  great  fear  of  her 
father,  dreading  exposure  of  what,  doubtless,  is 
something  worse  than  mere  flirtation — something 
which  she  is  repenting,  moved  thereto  by  Renfrew's 
successful  blackmailing.  However,  I  must  keep 
her  in  sight.  She  may  prove  useful  before  I  am 
through  with  the  case." 

Lucy  drove  back  rapidly  to  her  hotel,  little 
dreaming  she  was  followed,  much  disturbed  and 
perplexed  by  the  disappearance  of  her  letters.  She 
felt  her  condition  was  worse  than  before.  She 
knew  from  what  quarter  she  might  expect  danger 
before,  and  could,  perhaps,  guard  against  it  ;  now 
she  could  not  tell  from  whence  the  next  blow  would 
come,  and  she  could  not  arm  herself  at  all  points. 
Life  seemed  dark  and  drear  ;  there  was  no  joy 
in  it. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

THE   ROSEBUD    PARTY. 

THE  vicinity  of  Mrs.  Jamieson's  house  in  Madi- 
son Avenue  bore  an  air  of  festivity  on  the 
night  of  her  rosebud  party.  Lights  flashed 
from  every  window  of  her  mansion,  and  as  the 
doors  opened,  which  was  at  frequent  intervals, 
there  issued  forth  the  sounds  of  music,  of  the  happy 
babble  of  voices,  and  the  fragrance  of  many  flowers. 
Carriages  lined  the  street  on  either  side,  and  a  tall 
policeman  was  ordering  their  coming  and  going,  as 
well  as  keeping  the  carpeted  pathway  across  the 
sidewalk  under  the  awning  clear  of  the  children  and 
servant-maids  who  thronged  on  either  side. 

As  Gordon's  carriage  drew  up  at  the  curbstone, 
he  roused  himself  from  his  contemplation  of  the 
embarrassments  in  which  his  foolish  knight-errantry 
seemed  to  bave  involved  him,  and  the  possible  con- 
sequences of  which  weighed  upon  him  more  and 
more  as  he  dwelt  upon  them. 

He  opened  the  door  of  his  carriage,  and  as  he 
stepped  out,  he  said  to  himself  :  "  I'll  keep  my 
promise  to  Mrs.  Jamieson,  and  then  leave  the  town 
for  some  months." 

When  once  in  the  room  assigned  to  gentlemen, 
he  found,  among  others  of  his  acquaintances,  sev- 
eral of  those  who  were  present  at  the  time  he  had 
made  his  wager  with  Dizzy  Lowell. 

Will  Robb,  who  was  struggling  with  a  refractory 
cravat  before  the  glass,  saw  him  enter,  and  cried 
out  : 

80 


THE  ROSEBUD  PARTY.  8 1 

"  Hev  a  keb,  sir.  Tek  you  up  for  a  dollar  'n 
hef." 

The  story  of  Jack's  exploit  had  evidently  gone 
abroad,  for  his  ears  were  saluted  with  the  cry  taken 
up  by  every  one  in  the  room. 

In  view  of  the  trouble  he  felt  he  would  probably 
be  involved  in  through  that  exploit,  the  chorus  was 
not  particularly  agreeable,  but  he  well  knew  that  a 
display  of  the  slightest  annoyance  would  be  a  signal 
for  persistence,  and  so  he  fell  into  the  spirit  of  the 
fun  with  all  the  grace  he  could  summon. 

The  joke,  therefore,  was  soon  exhausted,  but  he 
was  compelled  to  undergo  what  was  still  more  dis- 
agreeable— the  admiring  comments  of  the  callow 
youth  who  saw  something  dashing  and  heroic  in  his 
adventure. 

From  these  he  escaped  in  time,  and  prepared  to 
descend  to  the  parlors.  While  doing  so,  he  said  to 
Will  Robb,  who  was  loitering  behind  the  rest,  ap- 
parently waiting  for  his  friend,  with  some  sarcasm: 

"  You  owe  me  considerable,  Will." 

"  Owe  you  what  ?     Owe  you  nothing." 

"  An  opportunity  to  be  for  once  entertaining  to 
Mrs.  Jamieson." 

The  young  man  reddened  slightly  as  he  replied  : 

"  Come  again.     I  don't  catch  on." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  do." 

"  You  mean  my  telling  '  Mama  J."  of  that  cab- 
driving  bet  ?  The  joke  was  too  .good  to  keep. 
What  do  you  care  ?  " 

"  I  don't  say  that  I  do  care,  but  your  tongue 
swings  too  easily,  my  lad.  One  day  it  will  swing 
off,  and  then  there'll  be  none." 

By  this  time  he  was  ready,  and  they  descended 
the  stairs  together. 

The  scene  in  the  great  parlors  was  attractive  and 
inspiring.  Crowded  rooms  were  indeed  not  unus- 
ual at  Mrs.  Jamieson's  social  occasions,  but  in  this 


82  JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

case  there  were  a  large  number  of  fresh  faces- 
debutantes  of  the  new  season, — the  "  rosebuds." 

They  stopped  a  moment  to  look  over  the 
scene. 

"  Extraordinary  good  '  browsing  pasture,'  "  said 
Gordon.  Robb  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  He  did 
not  understand  the  allusion. 

Mrs.  Jamieson  was  standing  near  the  door,  and 
the  two  young  men  presented  themselves. 

"  Here  are  two  scapegraces,"  was  the  greeting  of 
that  lively  lady.  Then  to  Gordon  she  said,  "  I  be- 
gan to  think  you  would  fail  me.  You  are  late." 

"  Not  very,  I  think.  You  see  I  am  preparing  jto 
leave  town  early  to-morrow." 

"  To  leave  town  at  the  beginning  of  the  season  ? 
What  folly  is  this  ?  " 

"  Having  been  awakened  to  the  awful  wickedness 
of  my  life  by  your  admonitions,  I  am  going  into 
solitude  for  repentance." 

"  You  repent !  "  The  lady's  face  was  a  picture 
of  fine  scorn. 

"What,"  inquired  her  husband,  "  has  the  little 
woman  been  lecturing  you  ?  " 

"  Lecturing  me  !"  repeated  Gordon  with  doleful 
air.  "  The  term  fails  to  convey  the  slightest  idea 
of  the  drubbing  (verbal,  I  mean)  she  gave  me  yes- 
terday." 

"  What  for?  What  have  you  been  doing  ?  Oh, 
I  know,  the  cab-driving  scrape." 

The  host  laughed  heartily. 

"  Oh,  it  was  not  that  alone,"  cried  the  little  part- 
ner of  his  life.  "  It  was  the  general  uselessness  of 
his  life.  But  don't  stand  idling  with  me.  There 
are  hosts  of  pretty  girls  in  the  rooms,  who  need 
some  one  to  teach  them  the  way  they  should  go 
this  season." 

"  There,  Will,  there's  a  carte  blanche  for  you," 
said  Gordon.  "  Mrs.  Jamieson  lets  you  loose  alone 


THE  ROSEBUD  PARTY.  83 

in  this  garden  of  roses.  She  positively  trusts  you 
to  behave  yourself." 

"It  is  not  Will  Robb  I'm  troubled  about,"  re- 
plied the  lady,  "  it  is  you.  Still,  if  you  are  going 
away  to-morrow  you  can  not  work  much  harm. 
So  run  along  like  two  good  little  boys." 

"  Come,  Jack,"  said  Robb,putting  his  arm  through 
that  of  his  friend,  "  we'll  look  over  the  '  buds  '  and 
make  our  selections." 

They  moved  off  before  the  vivacious  hostess 
could  reprove  him  for  his  impudent  speech. 

The  young  faces  about  them  were  to  a  great  ex- 
tent strange,  for  they  were  nearly  all  those  belong- 
ing to  debutantes,  sipping  the  sweets  of  their  first 
season.  Such  of  the  guests  as  they  recognized  and 
saluted  were  what  Robb  irreverently  called  "  old 
rounders,"  by  which  he  meant  those  who  had  been 
out  more  than  one  season. 

Jack  was  as  much  displeased  as  astonished  to 
find  what  a  hero  his  amateur  cabmanship  had  made 
of  him,  and  how  widely  the  story  had  been  spread. 
He  heard  allusions  to  it  from  every  side,  and  though 
he  bore  up  under  it  bravely  he  was  heartily  ashamed 
of  himself. 

The  two  young  flowers  of  the  fashion  and 
chivalry  of  Gotham  had  made  their  way  down  the 
long  parlors,  when  Jack  saw  two  young  ladies 
with  whom,  to  use  his  own  phrase,  he  was  "  very 
chummy,"  and  who  are  not  strangers  to  the  reader, 
standing  just  inside  the  conservatory  ;  dropping 
Robb's  arm  he  hastened  to  them. 

As  he  drew  near  them  he  saw  a  face  whose  beauty 
at  once  attracted  him.  The  lady  sat  in  a  corner 
easy  chair,  a  picture  of  elegant,  indolent  grace.  On 
one  side,  near  the  conservatory  door,  sat  a  distin- 
guished-looking gray-haired  gentleman  in  earnest 
conversation  with  Mr.  Van  Huyn,  a  celebrated 
lawyer  of  the  city  ;  on  the  other  side,  engaging  the 


84          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

attention  of  the  lady,  was  a  young  gentleman  who 
Jack  knew  was  an  attache  of  the  State  Department 
at  Washington,  and  who  was  quite  evidently  much 
fascinated  by  his  fair  companion.  And  well  he 
might  be,  for,  surrounded  as  she  was  by  Gotham's 
fairest  daughters,  she  outshone  them  all.  . 

Exquisitely  attired,  her  costume  was  a  triumph 
of  art  and  displayed  her  magnificently  developed 
figure  to  its  best  advantage.  She  was  a  brilliant 
and  striking  figure,  with  her  dark  hair,  soft,4arge 
black  eyes,  quickly  responsive  to  every  thought 
flashing  across  her  mind,  her  brown,  velvety  skin, 
through  which  the  color  showed  as  clearly  as  if  it 
had  been  fairer,  and  her  high,  regular,  and  finely 
chiseled  features. 

Notwithstanding  her  indolent  pose,  Jack  observed 
that  her  face  betrayed  a  feverish  animation  and 
that  her  eyes  were  unnaturally  bright — that  she 
seemed  to  breathe  through  her  slightly  parted  lips 
as  if  she  were  oppressed. 

All  this  he  had  rapidly  taken  in  while  he  was 
making  his  salutations  to  his  friends,  who  were  two 
of  the  class  Will  Robb  had  so  elegantly  termed 
"  rounders."  They  justified  the  application  of  the 
term  by  the  vociferousnessof  their  greeting  of  him. 

"  Now  not  a  word  about  it,  please,"  said  Jack. 
"  I  know  you  are  burning  to  say  it,  but  do  earn  a 
continuance  of  my  unbounded  affection  for  you 
both,  by  refraining  from  a  word  of  mention  of  it. 
You  know  how  ardently  and  devotedly  attached  I 
am  to  both  of  you,  and  I  assure  you  it  is  largely 
due  to  your  never  saying  what  the  rest  of  the  world 
does." 

The  two  young  ladies  stared  at  him  in  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Methinks,"  said  the  blonde  in  a  diaphanous  mass 
of  pink,  who  was  Miss  Lowell,  with  a  pretty  affec- 
tation of  solicitude,  "  methinks,  Jack,  thou  hast 


THE   ROSEBUD  PARTY.  85 

found  thy  way  to  '  Mama  Jamieson's  '  wine  before 
the  rest  of  us." 

"  Yes,"  added  the  brunette,  with  saucy,  tip-tilted 
nose,  her  sworn  friend,  Lou  Appleby,  "  Yes,  and 
hast  addled  that  poor  pate  of  thine." 

"Spare  me,"  answered  the  unabashed  Jack.  "  I 
can  stand  everything  but  the  slings  and  arrows  of 
your  wit.  The  increasing  loveliness  of  both,  dou- 
ble-barreled as  it  is,  I  can,  perhaps,  because  I  am 
getting  accustomed  to  its  glare.  Mollie,  that's  a 
very  becoming  gown  you  have,"  he  continued,  sur- 
veying the  blonde  with  an  approving  air  through 
his  single  glass.  "  A  little  too  much  up  in  the 
back." 

"  Up  !  "  cried  the  other,  stricken  with  envy  over 
the  compliment  to  her  friend.  "  Too  much  up  in 
the  back  !  Goodness,  Jack,  one  must  wear  a  waist!" 

"  Oh,  must  one  ?  "  retorted  Jack,  turning  his 
monocle  on  the  fair  speaker.  "  Where's  yours 
then  ?" 

"You  are  impertinent,  Jack,  my  dear  boy," 
was  her  reply.  "  You  are  not  improving  a  particle, 
notwithstanding  all  our  pains.  I  think  it  must  be 
the  night  air." 

"  Yes,"  assisted  Miss  Lowell,  "  taken  from  the 
box  of  a  cab." 

"  There,  I  knew  it,"  rejoined  Jack,  sorrowfully, 
"  I  knew  you  would  forfeit  my  affection  before  you 
finished.  I  felt  it  when  I  came  up.  I  warned  you 
in  time  too.  It  is  too  bad." 

"  What's  too  bad  ?"  cried  both  in  one  voice. 

"  The  thoughtless  way  in  which  you  manage 
your  unruly  tongues.  But  for  that  fatal  defect 
both  of  you  long  ago  might  have  been  Mrs.  Gor- 
don." 

"  Both  ?  Oh,  horror  !  "ejaculated  Miss  Appleby. 
"  It  would  be  horrible  to  be  the  whole  Mrs.  Gordon, 
but  to  be  a  half—" 


86          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Well,  I  should  think  it  would  be  better,"  re- 
plied Jack  argumentatively.  "  You  see  it  would 
mitigate  the  evil  just  fifty  per  cent." 

"  You  are  not  wholly  lost,  Jack,"  said  Miss  Mol- 
lie.  "  You  have  a  proper  appreciation  of  your  own 
value.  Yes,  it  would.be  an  unmixed  evil  in  whole 
or  in  part." 

"An  unmixed  evil,  eh?"  inquired  Jack  with 
suspicious  compliance.  "  Yes,  I  think  so  myself — 
for  me." 

The  only  way  in  which  the  young  ladies  could 
show  their  resentment  was  by  immediately  present- 
ing their  backs  to  him  with  their  noses  inclined 
upward. 

Jack  attentively  regarded  their  backs. 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes.  The  drapery  is  very  fair.  Do  it 
yourselves  ?  " 

They  came  about  with  the  precision  of  soldiers, 
profound  disgust  on  their  faces. 

Jack  turned  slightly,  and  again  observed  the  lady 
in  the  corner  chair. 

"  Who  is  the  lady  flanked  by  Winter  and  Spring 
and  confronted  by  Autumn  ?  "  he  queried. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ? "  demanded  Miss  Appleby. 

"That  you  may  desert  us?"  inquired  Miss 
Lowell. 

"  That  I  may  know  who  she  is — surely  a  simple 
reason  ? " 

"  Far  too  simple  and  guileless,"  rejoined  Miss 
Appleby.  "  But  I  shall  exhibit  no  petty  spirit  of 
envy.  I'll  tell  you  all  I  know.  She  is  a  lady  with 
whom  I  have  no  acquaintance." 

"  Your  knowledge  is  extensive.  Does  yours  have 
the  same  breadth  and  depth,  Mollie?" 

"  I  can  say  without  hesitation  it  has." 

"  The  youthful  cavalier  fresh  from  the  halls  of 
Washington,"  resumed  Miss  Appleby,  "  seems  to 
be  captivated — to  be  mashed,  so  to  speak." 


THE  ROSEBUD  PARTY.  87 

"  Yes,"  said  Jack.     "  He  appears  to  be  making 
his  running  under  whip  and  spur." 
.    "  Fascination  for  the  whip,"  said  Miss  Lowell. 

"  And  desire  to  please  for  the  spur,"  added  Miss 
Appleby. 

Jack  opened  his  eyes  with  mock  surprise. 

"  Why,  your  wits  are  brightening." 

Before  either  could  punish  him  for  his  imperti- 
nence, one  of  the  young  guests — and*  very  young 
and  conscious — came  up  with  a  blush  and  a  stam- 
mer, and  claimed  the  hand  of  Miss  Lowell  for  a 
dance. 

"  I  say,  young  Nettleton,"  said  Jack,  with  a 
drawl,  "  are  you  going  to  dance  with  Miss  Lowell  ?  " 

"  If  she  will  do  me  that  honor." 

"  I  suppose  your  life  is  insured,  but  run  out  and 
get  a  policy  on  your  heart.  She's  dangerous.  I 
know  it,  to  my  sorrow.  You  see  in  me  the  wasted 
victim  of  an  unrequited  passion,  of  which  she  is 
the  object.  She  lives  but  to  slay." 

The  lady  rewarded  him  with  a  delicious  moue, 
and  walked  away  with  her  blushing  cavalier. 

"Jack,"  said  Miss  Appleby,  "give  me  your  arm 
and  take  me  to  mother.  The  dear  old  girl  has 
been  quite  reasonable  so  long  as  Mollie  was  here, 
but  I  see  the  clouds  gathering.  Your  reputation  is 
so  bad,  I  can  not  endanger  mine  with  talking  to 
you  alone,  and  what  is  far  worse,  put  myself  in 
peril  of  a  scolding  for  having  encouraged  that  very 
disreputable  person,  Mr.  Jack  Gordon." 

"  Ah,"  replied  Jack,  as  he  offered  her  his  arm. 
"  I  begin  to  doubt  whether  a  life  of  virtue  and  ex- 
treme piety  is  its  own  reward.  But  the  truly  good 
always  were  slandered  from  the  beginning  of  time." 

The  young  lady's  mother  did  not  seem  to  regard 
him  with  great  horror,  however,  when  he  brought 
her  daughter,  for  she  greeted  him  with  a  smile. 

Jack  was  glad  to  escape,  for  all  the  time  he  was 


88          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

indulging  in  persiflage  with  the  two  young  ladies, 
he  was  giving  much  attention  to  the  one  in  the 
corner. 

He  sought  Mrs.  Jamieson  at  once. 

"  Well,  you  naughty  boy,"  said  she,  as  he  came 
up.  "  I've  been  watching  you.  You  have  devoted 
yourself  wholly  to  that  flirting  cousin  of  mine  and 
her  friend  Lou,  both  of  whom  know  well  enough 
how  to  obtain  attention  without  monopolizing  one 
I  intended  for  a  lieutenant.  See  how  nobly  Will 
Robb  is  doing  his  duty." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  He'is  a  model.  But  it  is  reserved 
only  for  a  few  to  attain  the  altitude  pf  his  goodness. 
He  resembles  an  angel." 

The  idea  of  Robb's  resemblance  to  an  angel  was 
too  much  for  the  jolly  little  dame,  and  laughing, 
she  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder  with  her  fan,  saying : 

"  I  give  you  up.     You  are  incorrigible." 

"  Don't  do  that,  please.  Because  I  want  you  to 
do  me  a  favor." 

"  And  what  may  that  be,  please  ?  " 

"  Tell  me  who  is  the  striking  lady  seated  in  the 
corner  ? " 

The  lady  looked  in  the  direction  indicated. 

"  Why,"  she  said,  "  that  is  the  daughter  of  the 
gentleman  you  inquired  about  yesterday — Dr.  Sher- 
man. That  is  he  sitting  beside  her,  the  old  gentle- 
man. It  is  Miss  Lucy  Sherman." 

"  Will  you  not  present  me?  " 

"  No,  I  will  not,  for  you  don't  deserve  it.  But 
I'll  compromise  with  you.  Here's  Mrs.  Van  Huyn, 
she  is  Miss  Sherman's  chaperon.  I  will  ask  her  to 
present  you." 

Then  turning  to  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,  who  was  seated 
near  her,  she  said  : 

"  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,  here  is  a  sighing  swain  who 
desires  to  be  presented  to  your  charming  charge. 
Will  you  not  do  it  for  him  ?  " 


THE  ROSEBUD  PARTY.  89 

The  lady,  who  was  moodily  listening  to  the  dron- 
ing of  an  antiquated  beau,  who  vainly  imagined  he 
was  making  himself  most  agreeable  to  a  pretty 
woman,  rose,  her  face  brightening,  and  took  the 
proffered  arm  of  Jack. 

The  young  lady  was  still  listening  to  the  engag- 
ing young  diplomat. 

"  Lucy,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "  Mr.  Gordon  de- 
sires to  be  presented  to  you.  Miss  Sherman." 

The  gentleman  from  Washington,  loth  as  he 
was  to  relinquish  his  seat,  disappeared  with  a  bow, 
and  Jack  dropped  into  the  chair  just  vacated. 

He  had  found  the  unknown  Lucy. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

WEB  SPINNING. 

LUCY  received  Jack  graciously. 
To  be  received  graciously,  however,  was  noth- 
ing new  to  Jack.  All  women  gave  him  a  wel- 
come. He  had  a  winning  personality,  even  if  he 
could  not  boast  a  handsome  face.  His  manner  was 
deferential,  yet  self-assertive  ;  his  demeanor  mod- 
est, yet  bold.  He  accepted  every  woman  as  an 
equal — neither  as  a  superior  nor  an  inferior.  While 
thus  flattering  them  without  an  air  of  condescension 
he  compelled  respect  for  himself  without  becoming 
a  prig. 

After  the  ordinary  nothings  with  which  strangers 
begin  conversations,  Jack  remarked  that  he  imag- 
ined Miss  Sherman  was  not  a  resident  of  the  city. 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  we  do  not  count  ourselves 
residents,  though,  as  a  rule,  we  spend  the  winter 
months  in  town.  We  live  at  Caldwell." 

Jack  expressed  surprise  at  not  having  met  her 
before,  since,  as  he  said,  he  went  about  a  good  deal. 

"  It  is  not  strange,"  she  answered.  "  Last  win- 
ter I  did  not  go  out  because  of  the  death  of  an  aunt 
who  lived  with  us.  The  winter  before  we  were  in 
Europe." 

It  should  not  be  forgotten,  that  while  Jack  was 
making  himself  agreeable  to  Lucy,  he  firmly  be- 
lieved he  was  talking  with  one  who  had  caused  the 
death  of  Renfrew,  and  he  marveled  over  her  com- 
posure and  self-command.  The  feverishness,  the 
suppressed  restlessness,  he  had  noticed  when  he 
90 


WEB   SPIN  A? ING.  91 

first  observed  her,  were  still  present  in  her  manner. 
To  be  sure  the  indications  were  slight,  and  indeed, 
if  Jack  had  not  been  looking  for  manifestations 
of  the  awful  experience  he  felt  quite  certain  she 
must  have  passed  through  during  the  preceding 
twenty-four  hours,  he  probably  would  not  have  per- 
ceived them.  Of  all  this  he  was  aware,  and  he  won- 
dered how  a  girl  so  young,  and  who  did  not  bear 
upon  her  countenance  visible  expression  of  the  pos- 
session of  such  qualities  as  would  urge  her  to  com- 
mit such  a  deed,  could  carry  herself  with  such  per- 
fect self-possession. 

He  covertly  studied  her.  He  saw  a  strong,  re- 
fined face,  showing  capacity  for  emotion,  for  pas- 
sion even,  instinct  with  intellect.  That  it  was  the 
face  of  one  who  could,  in  a  moment  of  intense  an- 
ger, made  desperate  by  great  wrong,  strike  a  deadly 
blow,  he  could  well  understand.  But  he  could  see 
no  cruelty  in  it  ;  on  the  contrary,  there  was  much 
sensibility  apparent,  and  the  mouth,  well  formed 
and  firm  as  it  was,  manifested  large  power  for 
affection.  Her  eyes,  dark  and  glowing,  were  neither 
hard  nor  cold,  but  soft,  luminous,  and  responsive. 

How  she  could  have  brought  herself  to  attend  a 
place  of  festivity,  to  carry  herself  with  so  much 
composure,  and  to  engage  even  in  the  light,  trivial 
conversation  they  were  making,  puzzled  him.  He 
took  refuge  in  the  trite  consideration  that  women 
were  not  to  be  comprehended  by  the  male  biped. 

Notwithstanding  all  he  knew  of,  or  thought  he 
knew  of  her,  he  found  himself  greatly  attracted. 
This  might  have  been  accounted  for  by  her  beauty, 
but  Jack  would  not  admit  it  to  himself,  for  he 
thought  he  had  discovered  a  strength  in  her,  the 
suggestion  of  a  latent  power  in  all  she  said,  how- 
ever trivial,  which  fascinated  him.  Then,  too,  her 
voice,  which  washer  richest  gift,  was  low  and  soft, — 
a  quality  in  women  to  which  he  was  partial. 


92          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

There  Was  another  thing  which  puzzled  him,  for 
it  seemed  a  contradiction.  She  had  won  his  re- 
spect. He  knew  that  he  never  could,  however 
long  he  might  know  her,  or  however  intimate  he 
might  become,  get  upon  the  same  terms  he  was 
with  Mollie  Lowell  or  Lou  Appleby.  He  could 
not  picture  her  engaging  in  the  sort  of  chaff  he 
had  had  with  his  two  friends  earlier  in  the  evening. 

In  short  the  girl,  the  deed,  and  her  after-conduct 
were  irreconcilable.  He  abandoned  the  effort  to 
understand  her,  without  abandoning  the  belief  that 
she  was  the  slayer  of  Renfrew.  He  gave  himself 
up  to  the  thought  of  how  he  could  communicate  to 
her  the  possession  of  her  letters,  and  to  her  fasci- 
nations. 

No  doubt  Jack  is  presented  in  an  exceedingly 
reprehensible  light.  No  doubt  if  Jack  had  been  a 
model  young  man  his  soul  would  have  revolted  at 
the  idea  of  talking  with,  much  less  endeavoring  to 
impress  himself  favorably  upon,  one  he  thought 
guilty  of  life-taking.  No  doubt  if  Jack  had  been 
the  proper  sort  of  young  man  he  would  have  imme- 
diately communicated  the  knowledge  in  his  pos- 
session to  the  police,  and  thereby  made  a  fool  of 
himself.  But  not  being  a  proper  sort  of  young 
man,  he  escaped  being  a  fool,  and  as  this  pen  is  not 
constructing  a  model,  but  is  striving  to  present,  too 
feebly  it  is  true,  a  typical  young  man  of  New  York 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  perhaps  having  a  little 
too  much  heart,  intellect  and  enthusiasm,  but  not 
too  much  shrewdness  or  premature  sagacity  to  be 
typical,  it  can  do  no  more  than  set  down  the  facts. 

Now  that  he  was  in  the  situation  he  had  so  earn- 
estly desired,  face  to  face  with  his  fare  of  three 
nights  previous,  he  could  not  find  a  way  to  convey 
his  information.  He  had  already  determined  to 
make  himself  an  accessory  to  her  crime,  although 
he  did  not  use  that  ugly'word,  nor  regard  his  act  in 


WEB    SPINNING.  93 

such  a  light,  by  concealing  all  knowledge  he  pos- 
sessed. He  meant  to  deliver  to  her  the  letters, 
convince  her  he  did  not  know  their  contents,  and 
make  her  fully  comprehend  that  she  had  nothing 
to  fear  from  him. 

There  was,  after  all,  something  chivalric  about  all 
this.  He  had  no  ulterior  purpose.  Indeed,  he 
would  have  revolted  at  the  idea  of  gaining  advan- 
tage by  the  possession  of  such  power.  He  might 
have  desired  to  win  the  girl,  but  his  triumph  would 
have  been  valueless  in  his  eyes,  had  it  been  achieved 
by  such  means. 

All  this  time  they  had  been  chatting,  and  Jack 
had  made  no  progress  in  discovering  his  possessions. 

Dr.  Sherman,  who  had  been  absorbed  in  conver- 
sation with  the  distinguished  lawyer,  now  rose  and 
said  to  Lucy  : 

"  Come,  my  dear.  You  have  not  been  well  for  a 
day  or  two,  and  you  must  not  overtax  yourself." 

Lucy  rose  with  prompt  obedience,  and  Jack  and 
the  lawyer  did  the  same. 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Van  Huyn  engaged  the 
attention  of  Dr.  Sherman  by  a  further  remark,  and 
Jack  was  enabled  to  say  : 

"  I  have  been  greatly  pleased  to  make  your 
acquaintance,  Miss  Sherman,  and  dare  to  express 
the  hope  that  it  will  not  cease  with  this  meeting." 

If  he  had  hoped  by  this  cast  to  catch  a  fish  he 
was  disappointed.  Lucy  contented  herself  with  a 
courteous  inclination  of  the  head  in  acknowl- 
edgment. 

However,  Jack  was  not  to  be  defeated  without 
due  effort. 

"  Shall  I  be  transcending  the  proprieties,"  he  per- 
sisted insinuatingly,  "  in  asking  to  be  permitted  to 
call  upon  you  ?  " 

Lucy  did  not  seem  to  be  outraged  by  the  propo- 
sition, yet  she  hesitated  before  replying  : 


94          JACK  CORDO.V,  KX1GHT  ERRANT. 

"  We  live  at  an  hotel,  and  I  have  not  been  ac- 
customed to  receiving  calls  from  gentlemen." 

Jack  was  politely  urgent. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  make  an  exception  in  my 
case  ? " 

"  My  father  does  not  approve  of  it." 

Jack  was  desperate. 

"  I  had  hoped  to  be  able  to  obtain  your  consent 
and  to  say  at  the  time  of  my  call  what  I  must  say 
now." 

He  dropped  his  voice  so  that  it  could  be  heard 
by  none  but  Lucy. 

"  I  have  something  which  should  be  in  your 
hands,  which  I  think  you  will  regard  as  of  the 
greatest  value." 

Lucy  bent  her  dark  eyes  upon  him  most  earnestly, 
and  Jack  thought  he  saw  in  them  a  fleeting  ex- 
pression of  alarm. 

"  Indeed !  " 

"  Yes.     A  package  of  letters." 

The  color  quickly  rose  to  her  cheeks  and  over- 
spread them. 

"  A  package  of  letters  ?     Of  mine  ?  " 

"  I  presume  so."  Then  dropping  his  voice  still 
lower:  "  They  were  in  the  possession  of  Cyril 
Renfrew." 

The  color  left  her  face  so  quickly  that  Jack 
thought  she  was  about  to  faint,  and  he  cursed  his 
brutality. 

But  with  a  revulsion  the  color  swept  up  deeper 
.  than  before. 

"  How  came  they — Call  on  meat  two  to-morrow 
afternoon  at  the  B ." 

At  this  moment  Dr.  Sherman  turned  and  offered 
his  arm  to  his  daughter.  Noticing  the  heightened 
color  of  Lucy's  face,  he  looked  at  Jack  scrutiniz- 
ingly  and  not  without  kindly  amusement.  That 
unabashed  young  man  bore  the  scrutiny  well. 


WEB   SPINNING.  95 

The  lawyer  and  Jack  bowed,  and  Dr.  Sherman 
with  his  daughter  on  his  arm  walked  away. 

"  That  young  gentleman  evidently  has  a  danger- 
ous tongue,"  said  Dr.  Sherman  to  Lucy.  "  Beware 
of  him,  and  do  not  show  your  excitement  over 
compliments,  however  pleasing.  Still  you  deserve 
them  to-night,  for  you  are  looking  very  handsome." 

Jack  remained  standing  a  moment  where  they 
left  him.  Then  he  said  • 

"  That  trip  is  indefinitely  postponed." 

The  principal  attraction  having  withdrawn,  Jack 
thought  he  would  follow,  escaping  unobserved  if 
possible. 

This  he  did  successfully.  He  had  no  fancy  to 
go  elsewhere.  Within  himself  he  possessed  the 
food  for  interest  and  thought.  So  he  went  straight- 
way to  his  own  apartments. 

Here  he  found  his  man  Crimmins  busily  pack- 
ing his  trunks,  in  preparation  for  an  early  departure 
the  next  morning. 

"  You  may  stop  that,"  said  Jack. 

"Sir." 

"  Yes,  I  am  not  going  to-morrow.  Something 
has  occurred  to-night  to  prevent  me." 

The  obedient  Crimmins  began  to  unpaqk,  and 
Jack,  having  donned  his  "  blazer,"  lit  a  cigar,  took 
an  easy-chair,  and  soon  sank  into  a  profound 
reverie. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

AN   INTERVIEW    OF    CONSEQUENCE. 

IT  may  well  be  imagined  that  Lucy  returned 
home  in  no  enviable  frame  of  mind.  Her  father, 
who  had  been  greatly  pleased  with  the  entertain- 
ment, chatted  quite  gayly  and  compared  it  with  the 
social  festivities  of  his  youth,  both  in  New  York 
and  abroad.  Indeed,  he  seemed  to  be  seized  with 
an  unusual  fit  of  garrulity,  and  after  their  arrival 
at  home  detained  her  with  a  long  account  of  some 
ball  of  twenty -^ears  previous,  to  which  Lucy  gave 
only  outward  heed,  so  anxious  was  she  to  get  to  her 
room,  where  she  might  seriously  consider  the  effect 
the  information  she  had  that  night  received  so 
singularly,  might  have  upon  her  fortunes.  When 
she  was  at  length  released  she  dismissed  her  maid 
from  attendance  upon  her. 

What  alarmed  her  most  was  that  the  secret  was 
in  danger  of  becoming  widespread.  The  thought 
that  her  secret  was  confined  to  herself,  now  that 
Renfrew  was  dead,  had  comforted  her.  She  had 
feared  that  the  detective  had  become  possessed  of 
it,  and  that  thought  had  for  a  time  frightened  her, 
but  upon  that  point  she  had  been  assured,  and  she 
was  beginning  to  believe  that  the  actor  had  after 
all  destroyed  the  letters;  but  now  she  learned  that 
they  were  in  the  hands  of  a  fashionable  young 
man.  By  what  means  ?  What  use  would  he  make  of 
that  information?  And  the  secret  they  contained, 
with  how  many  had  he  shared  it  ?  Indeed,  her 


AN  INI 'ER  VIE  W  OF  CONSEQ UENCE.         9 7 

situation  seemed  to  be  worse  than  before.  So 
long  as  Renfrew  was  alive  and  possessed  it  alone 
she  had  been  enabled  to  keep  it  down  by  payments 
of  money.  Now  it  was  quite  likely  to  become  the 
gossip  of  the  clubs  and  the  street.  Surely  it  would 
reach  the  ears  of  Dr.  Sherman  !  She  wished  she 
had  killed  herself  that  night,  as  she  had  intended. 
To  live  in  this  fear  and  constant  dread  of  exposure 
was  worse  than  death.  Yet  she  could  not  do  it 
now.  The  hope  she  had  entertained  that  she  was 
wholly  relieved,  had  brought  with  it  a  revulsion 
which  made  the  act  impossible.  This  she  fully 
realized.  She  even  wondered  now  how  she  could 
have  contemplated  it,  and  whether  she  really  ever 
intended  to  do  it,  so  far  off  did  it  seem. 

Thus  she  thought  and  thought  without  seeing 
light,  until  the  breaking  of  the  gray  dawn  admon- 
ished her  that  she  must  at  least  make  a  pretense  of 
resting.  She  did  not  believe  she  could  sleep.  But 
she  was  far  more  exhausted  by  the  excitement  she 
had  undergone  than  she  was  conscious  of,  and  soon 
fell  into  profound  slumber. 

It  was  only  when  aroused  by  her  maid  that  she 
awoke  and  had  barely  time  to  prepare  for  break- 
fast, which  she  hurriedly  did.  Her  first  thought 
was  of  Jack  and  his  call.  She  was  exceedingly 
anxious  to  meet  him  and  know  the  worst  in  store 
for  her.  Her  second  was  how  she  could  secure  an 
uninterrupted  interview  with  him,  since  her  father 
never  left  their  apartments  until  after  lunch,  and, 
often  remained  in  all  the  afternoon.  Of  course  she 
could  receive  Mr.  Gordon  in  one  of  the  public  par- 
lors, but  her  continued  absence  from  their  own 
would  attract  the  attention  of  Dr.  Sherman,  who 
was  something  of  a  martinet  in  his  family.  Be- 
sides there  was  danger  that  when  Jack's  card  was 
presented  it  would  be  before  the  Doctor,  when, 
of  course,  he  would  have  to  be  received  in  their 


98          JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

own  apartments,  and  with  the  presence  of  the  Doc- 
tor the  call  would  come  to  naught. 

However,  when  breakfast  was  finished  the  Doc- 
tor smoothed  away  all  difficulties  by  announcing 
that  he  was  going  out  of  town  a  short  distance: 
and  would  not  be  back  before  the  dinner-hour. 
This  was  a  decided  luxury,  for  she  was  thus  free  to 
manifest  her  impatience  and  show  her  anxiety 
unrestrained  by  fear  of  a  pair  of  watchful  eyes. 

She  spent  a  large  portion  of  the  morning  in 
speculating  upon  the  sort  of  person  this  Mr.  Gor- 
don might  be.  She  had  been  rather  impressed  by 
his  appearance  and  manner  before  he  had  presented 
himself  in  the  formidable  shape  he  had,  as  the  pos- 
sessor of  her  letters  the  night  previous,  and  she 
was  more  than  once  on  the  point  of  donning  her 
garments  for  the  street  and  seeking  some  informa- 
tion of  him,  but  was  restrained  by  the  unfounded 
fear  that  he  might  call  in  her  absence. 

Shortly  after  twelve,  a  caller,  in  the  person  of  her 
chaperon,  the  pretty  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,  was  ushered 
in.  Here  was  the  opportunity  she  so  much  desired, 
and  she  greeted  tier  friend  effusively. 

"  My  dear,"  said  that  lady,  "  I  ran  around  to  see 
how  you  sustained  the  fatigues  of  last  evening. 
Your  father  said  you  were  not  well." 

"  Nor  have  I  been,  for  a  day  or  two,"  replied 
Lucy.  "  But  it  was  a  mere  nothing — I  feel  no  ill 
effects  from  last  night's  dissipation." 

"  Then  you  came  off  better  than  I  did,"  said  the 
visitor, "  for  I  find  myself  feverish,  restless,  nervous, 
and  am  tired  of  my  own  company.  You  do  look 
well  this  morning,  and  were  charming  last  night.  I 
was  proud  of  my  charge  and  was  fairly  besieged  for 
introductions." 

Lucy  laughed,  but  said  nothing. 

"  My  charge  !  "  continued  the  lady.  "  The  idea  ! 
You  are  as  old  as  I  am.  To  think  only  five  years 


AN  INTERVIEW  OF  CONSEQUENCE.        99 

ago  we  were  schoolmates,  and  now  I  am  a  married 
woman  acting  as  your  chaperon.  It  is  quite  ridic- 
ulous." 

"  Who  was  that  Mr.  Gordon  you  brought  to 
me  ?  " 

"I  expected  that  question.  Indeed,  I  think  the 
reason  of  my  coming  here  this  morning  was  to  an- 
swer it." 

"  I  am  not  so  anxious  to  know  that  you  needed 
to  have  come  for  that  alone,"  replied  Lucy  with 
indifference,  though  it  was  a  little  white  fib,  for 
she  was  bursting  with  impatience. 

"  No,  I  presume  not.  Yet  in  your  heart  you 
ought  to  be  grateful  to  me.  You  know  you  are 
just  dying  to  have  the  answer." 

"  If  I  am,  I  am  likely  to  die  before  I  get  it." 

"  Oh,  the  impatience  of  the  dear  thing  !  Ah,  I 
saw  he  succeeded  in  making  himself  very  agree- 
able. •  Do  you  think  I  was  not  observant  of  the 
parting  ?" 

Lucy's  color  rose  as  she  laughed. 

"  Why,"  said  her  visitor,  noting  it,  "  it  is  farther 
gone  than  I  supposed.  But  I'll  not  torture,  you. 
Mr.  Gordon  is  regarded  in  many  respects  as  the 
most,  eligible  parti  in  the  city.  Rich,  well  edu- 
cated, more  brains  than  usually  falls  to  the  lot  of 
\htjeunesse  dort,  not  too  far  gone  in  dissipation, 
witty,  good  tempered,  of  good  family,  unburdened 
by  father  or  mother,  brother  or  sister.  Lacks 
something  in  good  looks,  but  makes  it  up  in  dis- 
tinction. And,  finally,  is  one  of '  Mama  Jamieson's  ' 
young  tnen — chief  among  the  rest — facile princtps — 
you  see  I  haven't  forgotten  Miss  Waltham  and  my 
Latin." 

"  But  is  he  a  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Is  he  not  rich  and  well  educated — well- 
born ?  " 

"  But  he  may  not  be  a  gentleman  for  all  that." 


loo        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Oh,  well,  Jack  Gordon  is  a  gentleman.  A 
kindly,  big-hearted  fellow,  who  would  any  time  do 
one  a  kindness  rather  than  an  injury." 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  that." 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  nervous  little 
laugh  which  struck  oddly  on  Lucy.  "  He  ought 
to  be  much  obliged  to  me,  for  I  have  done  all  in  my 
power  to  assist  him.  I  owe  him  several  good  turns, 
and  when  I  see  him  I  will  sound  your  praises  to 
him.  I  shall  be  the  directing  angel  of  this  romance." 

"  Better  wait  until  you  see  whether  there  is  to 
be  one." 

"  Oh,  I  am  satisfied  it  is  already  begun.  Well, 
Lucy  dear,  he  is  a  dear,  good  boy.  If  I  were  in 
trouble  I  do  not  know  any  one  I  would  rather  put 
my  trust  in  than  Jack  Gordon.  He  is  true  as 
steel." 

"Who  were  the  two  young  ladies  with  whom  he 
seemed  to  be  on  such  good  terms  ?" 

"  Jealous  indeed  !  Have  no  fear.  They  were 
Mollie  Lowell  and  Lou  Appleby — two  dashing 
young  ladies  inclined  to  assume  airs  too  loud  and 
too  fast  to  suit  Jack's  refined  taste  in  women — well 
enough  to  flirt  and  chaff  with,  which  he  does  to  his 
heart's  content,  and  as  half — no,  nine-tenths — of 
the  young  men  do.  It  ends  there." 

Lucy  had  now  learned  all  she  could  expect  to, 
and  she  began  to  wish  her  visitor  would  depart. 
But  to  depart  was  far  from  Mrs.  Van  Huyn's  pur- 
pose. She  wanted  company,  and  she  frankly  an- 
nounced that  she  meant  to  lunch  with  her  friend. 

As  the  hour  of  two  approached  Lucy  became  so 
nervous  as  to  betray  her-  anxiety.  So  when  Gor- 
don's card  was  presented  Mrs.  Van  Huyn  laughed 
heartily. 

"So  this  accounts  for  your  anxiety.  An  ap- 
pointment already.  He  loses  no  time  in  following 
up  his  advantage  of  last  night.  Come,  shall  I 


AN  IN  TER  VIE  W  OF  CONSEQ  UENCE.      to  I 

dance  at  your  wedding  before  the  winter  is  over  ? 
But  why  should  I  desire  your  marriage  ?  The 
estate  is  not  such  a  happy  one.  Yet  warnings  are 
of  no  use.  Run  down  to  him,  my  dear.  Don't 
mind  me,  I  shall  go  at  once." 

They  descended  the  stairs  together,  and  parted 
at  the  parlor  door. 

In  the  mean  time  Jack  had  been  occupying  the 
time  while  waiting  for  Lucy's  appearance  in  won- 
dering how  she  would  receive  him.  He  feared  she 
would  resent  his  interference  in  her  affairs,  for 
after  all  it  was  impertinent  officiousness  on  his 
part. 

When  she  entered  he  was,  in  fact,  surprised  at 
her  greeting.  She  was  neither  cold,  haughty,  nor 
disdainful.  On  the  contrary,  there  seemed  to  be 
something  appealing  in  the  glance  she  cast  upon 
him,  as  if  she  were  throwing  herself  upon  his 
mercy.  Jack  thought,  "  If  she  is  charming  at 
night,  she  is  irresistible  in  the  morning." 

As  soon  as  they  were  seated  he  took  from  his 
pocket  the  package  of  letters  he  had  obtained  from 
Renfrew,  and  was  about  to  speak,  when  a  man  who 
had  strolled  into  the  parlor  passed  so  close  that 
Jack  waited  for  him  to  go  by,  which  he  did  slowly, 
posting  himself  in  front  of  the  mirror  at  the  other 
end  of  the  room. 

"  This,"  he  said,  when  the  man  was  out  of  hearing, 
"  I  am  convinced  belongs  to  you.  I  do  not  sup- 
pose so  because  I  know  its  contents.  I  have  never 
read  the  letters,  have  never  opened  the  package. 
I  know  absolutely  nothing  of  the  nature  of  their 
contents.  I  wish  you  to  believe  this — upon  the 
honor  of  a  gentleman." 

He  handed  them  to  her,  conscious  at  the  time  of 
the  singularity  of  his  endeavor  to  obtain  the  esteem 
of  one  he  believed  to  be  the  murderer  of  the 
actor. 


102        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

Lucy  showed  her  surprise,  and  a  glad  look  spread 
over  her  face.  She  observed  the  expression  of 
earnestness  on  his,  and  believed  him.  She  said  so. 

"  I  can  not  imagine  how  they  came  into  your 
hands,  Mr.  Gordon,"  she  added. 

The  man  at  the  glass  strolled  back  again,  and  so 
close  that  Jack,  believing  it  to  be  intentional,  glared 
at  the  man  in  so  unmistakably  a  belligerent  manner 
that  he  left  the  room,  though  during  the  whole  con- 
versation Jack  could  see  he  paced  up  and  down  the 
corridor. 

Replying  to  Lucy  he  said  : 

"  The  story  is  a  singular  one,  and  perhaps  would 
not  be  believed  in  its  entirety.  While  I  am  glad  I 
have  been  the  means  of  restoring  them  to  you,  I 
can  not  say  I  am  proud  of  the  exploit." 

Lucy  looked  at  him,  puzzled.  After  a  moment's 
hesitation  she  said  : 

"You  know,  of  course,  that  Mr.  Renfrew  is 
dead  ? " 

"  Yes.     Killed  in  his  room  night  before  last." 

"Yes.     1  read  the  account  in  the  papers." 

Now  it  was  Gordon's  turn  to  be  puzzled.  He 
looked  at  the  face  of  the  girl.  There  was  no 
blanching,  not  a  quiver  of  trepidation,  not  an  indi- 
cation of  agitation  or  remorse. 

"She  is  an  extraordinary  woman,"  said  Gordon 
to  himself,  partly  in  admiration  and  partly  in 
amazement. 

"  1  confess,  Mr.  Gordon,"  she  continued,  ''  you 
have  performed  a  service  for  me,  the  value  of  which 
you  can  not  realize.  You  can  not  know  the  grati- 
tude I  bear  you  for  the  favor  and  the  generous 
way  in  which  you  have  performed  it." 

Jack  bowed,  murmuring  that  he  was  only  too 
glad  to  have  been  of  real  service  to  her. 

"  I  would  like  to  say  something,"  continued  Lucy, 
"  and  I  hardly  know  how  to  say  it." 


AN  INTER  VIE  W  OF  CONSEQUENCE.      1 03 

She  was  evidently  greatly  embarrassed.  The 
color  was  coming  and  going  rapidly. 

"  If  it  embarrasses  you,"  said  Jack  kindly,  "  leave 
it  unsaid." 

"  No.  I  must  say  it  in  defense  of  myself,"  she 
persisted.  "  I  hope  you  will  try  to  understand  me, 
and  will  believe  me  as  earnestly  as  I  do  you." 

Jack  was  sure  he  would. 

"  I  read  yesterday  that  Mr.  Renfrew's  reputation 
was  not  good  ;  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  inveig- 
ling young  girls  into  letter-writing  and  then  using 
that  correspondence  to  his  own — a  very  base — 
advantage." 

Jack  had  heard  that  he  had  been  given  to 
chantage. 

"  I  earnestly  hope  you  will  not  believe  this  to  be 
one  of  those  cases  ?" 

This  was  a  little  more  than  Jack  could  believe 
when  he  remembered  the  conversation  he  had  over- 
heard. Fortunately  for  his  politeness  Lucy  did 
not  look  up  at  him. 

"  There  never  was,"  she  went  on,  "  anything  re- 
sembling a  love  episode  between  Mr.  Renfrew  and 
myself — not  even  the  slightest  form  of  flirtation." 

The  blushes  were  added  to  her  cheek  as  she  said 
this,  and  Jack  was  astonished  to  find  how  glad  he 
was  to  hear  her  words. 

"  No,"  she  continued,  "  I  was  not  one  of  those 
silly  girls  who  saw  a  hero  in  Mr.  Renfrew.  It  is 
this  I  want  you  to  believe." 

Jack  did  believe  then,  because,  having  said  what 
she  had  found  it  so  hard  to  say,  she  bent  her  dark 
eyes  upon  him,  and  he  had  to  believe  in  spite  of 
himself. 

"  I  shall  not  attempt  to  conceal  from  you,"  she 
went  on  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  "  that  this 
package  contains  letters  written  by  me  to  Mr.  Ren- 
frew, but  they  are  not  love-letters.  They  were 


104        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

written  during  a  period  of  three  years,  and  relate 
to  a  matter  which  does  not  even  remotely  involve 
the  affections.  They  relate  to  a  fault  committed 
by  me  when  I  was  a  mere  unsophisticated,  irrespon- 
sible school-girl — a  fault  which  would  be,  if  com- 
mitted now  at  my  age,  a  crime — a  fault,  the  con- 
sequences of  which  have  attended  me  since,  and 
from  which  I  can  not  escape.  The  knowledge  of 
this  came  into  the  possession  of  Mr.  Renfrew  five 
years  ago,  and  he  has  made  me  suffer  bitterly  for 
the  past  three  years." 

"  And  he  has  paid  the  penalty  at  your  hands," 
thought  Jack,  not  without  some  sympathy.  Aloud 
he  said,  "  He  is  dead  now,  and  you  are  free  from 
him." 

"  Yes,  poor  fellow.     His  end  was  a  terrible  one." 

Jack  stared  at  her.  "  By  Jove  !  "  he  thought, 
"  you  are  a  cool  one,  indeed."  Then  aloud  : 

,"  You  are  not  likely  to  be  troubled  again,  if  the 
possession  of  those  letters  can  secure  you  against 
such  trouble." 

"  I  do  not  know  through  how  many  hands  they 
have  passed,"  she  replied.  "  All  may  not  have 
treated  them  with  the  same  delicacy  and  honor. 
I  do  not  know  how  they  came  into  your  hands." 

"  I  received  them  direct  from  Mr.  Cyril  Renfrew." 

"  You  received  them  from  Ja — from  Cyril  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  can  hardly  comprehend  that.  Were  you  an 
intimate  friend  of  Mr.  Renfrew  ? " 

"  I  had  never  spoken  to  him  half  an  hour  before 
he  gave  me  that  package." 

Lucy  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 

"  I  can  not  understand  it.  Did  he  give  them  to 
you  by  mistake  ?  Ah,"  she  said,  a  light  breaking 
in  upon  her,  "  he  intended  you  should  give  them 
to  Dr.  Sherman  ?" 

"  No,  Dr.  Sherman  was  not  mentioned  between 


AN  IN  TER  VIE  W  OF  CONSEQ  UENCE.      I  o 5 

us.  I  demanded  them  from  him — compelled  him 
to  yield  them  up  to  me." 

Lucy's  face  expressed  utter  bewilderment. 

"  I  do  not  wonder  you  are  puzzled,  Miss  Sher- 
man," said  Jack,  smiling.  "  The  case  is  almost 
incredible  in  its  details.  You  will  pardon  me,  I 
hope,  if  I  do  not  recite  it  at  length.  That  I  should 
have  demanded  the  yielding  up  of  the  letters  of  a 
lady  of  whose  very  name  I  was  ignorant,  is  almost 
impossible  of  belief,  I  understand,  yet  such  is  the 
case.  I  had  seen  you  without  knowing  who  you 
were.  It  had  come  to  my  knowledge  that  Ren- 
frew possessed  a  package — of  what  I  knew  not — 
but  I  did  know  its  possession  enabled  him  to  hold 
a  power  over  you.  I  know  it  is  inconceivable  that 
I  should  go  to  that  man  and  demand- its  delivery  to 
me,  trusting  to  my  energy  and  sagacity  to  discover 
you  and  deliver  it  to  you.  But  such  is  the  case." 

Jack  thought  that  this  statement  would  be  re- 
ceived with  incredulity,  and  he  looked  into  her  face 
with  a  deprecatory  grimace,  expecting  to  see  such 
an  expression.  He  did  not  see  it,  but  he  saw  a 
variety  of  fleeting  ones,  none  of  which  he  could  fix, 
and  he  thought  he  saw  a  slight  shudder  quickly 
suppressed.  He  rather  expected  to  be  laughed  at, 
but  he  would  have  been  astounded  if  he  could  have 
read  her  thoughts,  for  a  suspicion  had  found  lodg- 
ment in  her  brain,  that  this  man  had  killed  her 
persecutor.  His  unsatisfactory  statement  of  an 
act  which  certainly  was  incredible,  and  his  evident 
intention  to  suppress  a  part  of  the  story,  gave  birth 
to  this  suspicion. 

Jack  had  intended  to  tell  the  cab  story,  but  the 
longer  he  talked  with  her — the  longer  he  was 
within  the  circle  of  her  personal  influence — the 
more  difficult  he  found  the  confession  that  he  had 
made  her  the  subject  of  a  bet — and  such  a  bet — 
that  he  had  driven  her  in  disguise,  and  listened  to 


106        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

a  conversation  which  he  had  no  business  to  hear. 
Feeling  that  he  had  not  made  the  best  impression 
in  his  last  speech,  for  she  seemed  to  freeze  into 
stiffness,  he  tried  to  correct  it. 

"  Perhaps  some  time  when  we  know  each  other 
better,  I  can  tell  you  how  that  knowledge  came  to 
me.  When  you  know  me  better,  then,  what  now 
you  might  call  my  impertinence  would  be  con- 
doned— when  I  could  tell  you  how  I  came  to  offi- 
ciously intermeddle  in  your  affairs,  and  why,  when 
it  would  not  then  take  on  the  appearance  of  offense, 
it  might  now." 

He  had  not  improved  affairs.  Lucy  was  only 
the  more  confirmed  in  her  suspicions  that  he  had 
quarreled  with  Renfrew  and  killed  him. 

Jack  was  smiling,  rather  enjoying  her  air  of  be- 
wilderment. 

"  But  of  this  you  can  rest  assured,"  continued 
Jack,  since  she  did  not  speak.  "  If  you  are  satis- 
fied that  no  one,  other  than  Renfrew,  possessed 
your  secret,  you  are  perfectly  safe.  The  package 
went  from  his  keeping  into  mine,  and  I  restore  it 
to  you  just  as  I  received  it." 

"  He  is  a  gentleman,  anyhow,"  thought  Lucy. 

"  Yes,"  he  repeated,  "  just  as  I  received  it,  and 
I  am  as  ignorant  of  its  contents  as  when  I  went  to 
see  him." 

"  When  you  went  to  see  him  ?  "  she  repeated. 
"  When  was  that  ? " 

"  The  day  of  his  murder — in  the  afternoon." 

"  Oh,  I  went  to  see  him  that  day  too." 

"  Miss  Sherman,"  said  Jack  earnestly,  "  three 
people  called  to  see  Renfrew  that  afternoon.  One 
of  them  killed  the  actor.  Two  of  them  are  here 
now  talking  with  each  other.  The  knowledge  that 
we  called  is  confined  to  ourselves.  Let  me  advise 
you — let  me  urge  you  to  keep  that  knowledge  to 
yourself.  I~  shall  do  the  same.  If  we  do  not  we 


AN  INTERVIEW  OF  CONSEQUENCE.      107 

shall  be  involved,  at  least  as  witnesses,  at  the  ex- 
amination. In  your  case  you  might  be  compelled 
to  disclose  your  secret,  and,  possibly,  whether  or 
not  you  returned  for  a  second  visit.  But,"  and 
he  spoke  most  impressively,  "  burn  that  package. 
Put  it  out  of  your  power  to  produce  it  again." 

Lucy  was  about  to  say  something  as  to  her  visit, 
when  Jack  cautioned  her  to  burn  the  letters,  and 
diverted  her  attention  to  its  necessity. 

Jack  had  risen  with  his  remark,  and  had  seen  the 
warm  blood  sweep  up  over  Lucy's  cheek  as  he  had 
so  impressively  warned  her. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  with  a  pang  at  his  heart,  "she 
caused  the  death  of  Renfrew." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  as  she  considered  the  earnest- 
ness of  Jack's  warning  and  misapprehended  it, 
"  he  surely  killed  Jacob." 

They  shook  hands,  and  as  they  parted,  the  man 
who  had  hovered  about  the  door  came  down  the 
corridor. 

Jack  walked  along  the  street  in  a  singular  frame 
of  mind. 

"  Now,  by  Jove  !  here  is  a  fine  condition  of  things 
for  an  amiable  and  respectable,  not  to  say  a  talented 
and  highly  virtuous  young  man.  Here  am  I  in  col- 
lusion with  a  young  lady  who  has  a  mysterious 
epoch  in  her  life,  from  the  consequences  of  which 
she  escapes  by  calmly  suspending  the  breath  of  the 
wretch  who  knows  all  about  the  epoch  and  can  in- 
jure her.  And  what  is  worse,  the  more  I  see  her 
the  more  fascinated  I  am  with  her." 

He  strode  along  in  profound  thought  for  awhile. 
Then  he  said  aloud  : 

"  Hang  it  all  !  I'll  keep  her  secret,  no  matter 
what  the  consequences.  To  the  devil  with  pru- 
dence !" 

Lucy  hastened  to  her  own  room,  and  locking  the 
door  opened  the  package.  From  it  fell  a  long 


lo8        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

paper  neatly  folded.  She  found  it  to  be  a  succinct 
statement  of  the  fault — the  crime — she  had  referred 
to  in  her  conversation  with  Gordon.  This  made 
her  angry,  for  she  saw  in  it  proof  of  the  intention 
of  Renfrew  to  expose  her. 

She  hastily  examined  the  letters  and  found  that 
all  she  had  written  were  there — not  one  missing  ; 
but  she  found  another  also  which  was  not  written 
by  her.  Yet  the  hand  seemed  familiar  to  her, 
though  she  could  not  determine  it,  however  hard 
she  tried.  It  was  signed  "  Dollie  Dux."  She 
folded  it  up  and  laid  it  away  in  her  desk.  Her 
own  she  threw  into  the  fire  one  by  one  and  saw 
them  burn  with  satisfaction. 

"There  !  "  she  said,  as  the  last  one  turned  black 
and  shriveled  up.  "  There  is  the  last  bit  of  evi- 
dence against  me.  Get  it  who  can.  Jacob  is  dead, 
and  if  he  has  told  no  one,  and  it  is  not  likely  he 
has,  the  secret  is  mine  alone.  Mr.  Gordon  says  he 
does  not  know,  and  I  believe  him." 

She  drew  up  a  small  easy-chair  before  the  grate, 
and  nestling  in  its  soft  cushions  gave  herself  up  to 
thoughts  of  Gordon. 

How  came  he  to  interfere  ?  And  why  ?  Beyond 
this  she  could  not  get.  Strive  she  ever  so  hard  she 
could  not  get  a  bit  of  ground  to  stand  upon  from 
which  to  reason. 

Was  he  responsible  for  Renfrew's  death  ?  She 
tried  hard  to  believe  the  contrary;  but  if  his 
guarded  words  did  not  justify  that  suspicion,  what 
did  they  mean  ?  She  was  afraid  he  had — that  he 
had  quarreled  with  the  actor  she  was  certain,  per- 
haps over  her  own  letters,  and.  then  in  a  moment  of 
anger  had  done  the  fearful  deed.  Men  did  such 
things  when  they  were  exasperated  ;  even  gentle- 
men. She  had  read  of  such  cases. 

At  all  events  he  had  clone  her  great  service — a 
very  great  service — for  he  had  removed  her  entirely 


AN  INTER  VIE  W  OF  COttSEQ  UENCE.       i o^ 

from  danger.  She  ought-  to  be  grateful  to  him, 
and  she  was.  Had  he  not  saved  her  from  exposure 
and  ruin  ?  He  had  been  true  to  her  and  she 
should  be  to  him — true  as  steel.  Not  a  word 
should  fall  from  her  that  would  injure  him,  not- 
withstanding he  had  done  this  deed.  She  owed 
him  far  too  much.  He  could  depend  on  her,  no 
matter  what  he  had  done. 

Then  she  thought  of  her  attempt  to  recover  her 
letters  from  Captain  Lawton.  She  thought  now  it 
was  a  mistake,  and  she  had  promised  to  go  again  in 
a  week.  But  there  was  no  need.  She  would  write 
him  that  her  letters  had  been  recovered,  and  there- 
fore would  not  call  again. 

Acting  upon  the  impulse,  she  wrote  to  the  Cap- 
tain, taking  care  not  to  sign  any  name,  but  indi- 
cating who  the  writer  was  by  this  sentence  :  "  You 
will  recollect  I  called  upon  you  yesterday  with 
reference  to  letters  signed  by  '  Lucy,'  presuming 
then  they  were  in  the  possession  of  the  late  Cyril 
Renfrew." 

When  the  Captain  received  it  he  laughed  long 
and  heartily,  and  called  for  a  report  of  one  of  his 
aids.  "  You  need  not  shadow  her  any  longer,"  he 
said.  "  Devote  yourself  to  Mr.  John  Gordon." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SETTING    THE    LINES. 

days  moved  on  and  Captain  Lawton  found 
himself  but  little  nearer  the  end  of  his  search 
than  he  was  on  the  night  of  the  murder.  He 
still  adhered  to  the  theory  that  a  woman  had  com- 
mitted the  deed,  and  one  who  had  been  goaded  by 
Renfrew  into  desperation.  But  there  he  stopped, 
and  neither  could  his  superior  officer,  who  agreed 
with  him  as  to  the  theory,  suggest  a  line  of  policy 
which,  if  followed,  promised  results  of  the  kind 
desired.  The  chief  obstacle  to  progress  was  found 
in  the  secretive  life  and  methods  of  the  dead  actor. 
He  was  apparently  a  man  without  family  or  rela- 
tions. Certainly  he  was  without  intimates  or  confi- 
dants. He  had  succeeded  in  tracing  Renfrew  back 
to  the  day  he  first  appeared  at  a  theater  as  an 
applicant  for  employment.  An  old  prompter  said 
to  the  Captain  : 

"  I  recollect  well  the  day  he  appeared.  Side- 
wing,  the  stage-manager,  and'  I  were  looking  over  the 
supernumeraries  one  day  after  a  rehearsal,  and  think- 
ing we  wanted  a  leader  who  could  speak  a  line  or 
two,  when  a  good-looking  young  fellow  came  in 
and,  leaning  over  the  rail  of  the  orchestra,  said  :  '  I 
have  called  to  see  if  you  would  give  me  a  chance.' 
I  said  to  Sidewing, '  He  looks  it  well  enough.'  Said 
Sidewing,  'What  experience  have  you  had?' 
'None  whatever,' he  replied.  Sidewing  shook  his 
head,  but  I  said, '  Give  him  a  trial  ;  bring  him  up 
and  give  him  a  rehearsal.'  So  Sidewing  did.  He 


SETTING    THE   LINES.  Ill 

was  so  intelligent  and  quick  that  he  got  the  speeches 
in  twenty  minutes  just  as  Sidewing  wanted  them, 
and  he  rehearsed  next  day  satisfactorily  with  the 
'supes.'  He  was  engaged.  We  kept  on  giving  him 
little  speaking  parts,  and  so  he  grew.  That  was  his 
beginning.  Nobody  ever  knew  where  he  came 
from." 

From  all  the  Captain  could  hear,  Renfrew  never 
had  made  a  confidant  of  any  one  and  nevef  associ- 
ated with  his  fellows  of  the  stage.  No  one,  there- 
fore, could  help  trace  any  of  the  correspondents 
whose  letters  indicated  close  intimacy  with  him.  A 
few  were,  but  it  was  soon  apparent  that  they  had 
gone  but  a  little  way  with  him  and  could  tell 
nothing.  The  rank  of  life  of  his  correspondents 
helped  to  prevent  discovery.  The  coroner's  inquest 
had  elicited  nothing  whatever,  and  the  Inspector 
said  to  the  Captain  one  day  :  "  It  is  going  to  be 
an  addition  to  the  list  of  mysterious  murders." 

The  Captain  remarked  in  the  same  conversation, 
"  Of  course,  we  know  that  Miss  Sherman  called 
upon  him  on  the  clay  of  the  murder.  But  she  was 
the  first  one.  I  have  settled  that  conclusively.  So 
far  we  have  been  unable  to  discover  the  other  two. 
Of  course  the  third  one  is  the  real  one.  The  second 
might  assist  us.  I  am  quite  certain,  and  I  believe 
you  agree  with  me,  that  Miss  Sherman  had  no  con- 
nection with  those  who  followed." 

"  Yes,"  replied  his  superior  officer.  "  I  agree 
with  you  entirely  in  that.  That  girl  is  too  frank 
and  confiding  to  have  the  burden  of  that  murder 
on  her  soul." 

"  I  have  gone  over  Oliver's  work  again,"  con- 
tinued the  Captain,  "and  there  is  not  a  pistol  in 
town  to  compare  with  the  one  found." 

"  I  can  not  criticise  your  work,  Captain, "said  his 
suoerior.  "  except  in  one  particular.  It  doesn't 
seem  ro  me  mat  you  nave  done  an  you  couia  co 


112        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

discover  what  Miss  Sherman  knows  about  Renfrew 
and  his  surroundings.  Why  don't  you  see  her 
again ;  perhaps  by  gaining  her  confidence  you 
might  obtain  something  from  her." 

"  I  think  I  sounded  her  pretty  exhaustively  when 
she  came  to  see  me,"  replied  the  Captain.  "  I 
don't  think  she  knows  anything.  But  I'll  try. 
There  is  one  thing,  however,  that  I  ought  to  dis- 
cover and  I  will.  You  remember  that  Fagan,  who 
was  shadowing  her,  reported  that  young  Gordon 
called  upon  her  and  delivered  to  her  a  package. 
You  recollect  that  she  wrote  me  the  same  day  that 
she  had  recovered  her  letters.  I  received  her  note 
a  week  ago  to-day.  Now  the  package  Gordon 
gave  her  was  evidently  the  letters  she  wanted  to 
recover.  How  did  Gordon  get  them  ?  And  from 
whom  ?  From  Renfrew  ?  If  so,  when  ?  These 
inquiries  ought  to  be  made." 

"  You  are  right,"  rejoined  the  Inspector.  "  What 
relation  does  Gordon  bear  to  her  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  have  supposed  him  to  be  a 
beau  of  hers.  They  move  in  the  same  circle." 

"  Well,  follow  it  up.  Perhaps  you  ought  to  have 
done  so  before." 

;i  Nothing  is  lost.  I  have  had  them  both  shadowed, 
and  there  were  other  things  to  be  done  while  the 
trail  was  fresh." 

"  Well,  lose  no  time  now,"  said  the  Inspector, 
putting  an  end  to  the  interview. 

During  the  week  following  the  delivery  of  the 
package  to  her,  Lucy  had  experienced  a  greater 
ease  of  mind  than  she  had  enjoyed  for  three  years 
previously.  The  dreadful  contingency  which  was 
always  present  had  disappeared  in  the  death 
of  Renfrew  and  the  recovery  and  burning  of 
her  letters.  She  felt  like  one  who  had  escaped 
from  .a  prison,  or  rather  like  one  who  had  been 
released.  She  was  free — there  was  no  dreadful 


SETTING    THE  LINES.  113 

reckoning  time  drawing  day  by  day  closer.  There 
was  no  fear  at  night  that  she  would  awaken  to  a 
new  demand  in  the  morning  ;  there  was  no  longer 
a  sickening  recollection  on  awaking  that  a  sum  of 
money  must  be  collected  before  night  or  she  would 
be  ruined.  Gladness  filled  her  heart  and  left  no 
room  for  the  remorse  which  had  previously  made 
her  regard  her  fault — her  crime — as  something 
wretched  and  horrible.  Indeed,  she  began  to  think 
that  the  trespass  was,  after  all,  a  small  thing,  not 
worth  the  sorrow  and  regVet  she  had  wasted  upon 
it.  She  did  not  stop  to  think  that  the  remorse  was 
quite  as  much  a  strong  regret  that  by  reason  of  the 
fault — the  crime — she  had  put  herself  in  the  power 
of  Renfrew,  and  was  not  sorrow  for  the  crime 
itself.  She  was  in  these  days  so  bright  and  glad- 
some that  Dr.  Sherman  congratulated  her  upon  her 
return  to  health,  and  said  that  in  recovering  it  she 
had  renewed  the  lightheartedness  of  girlhood. 

During  this  week,  too,  she  saw  a  great  deal  of 
Jack  Gordon.  If  it  was  not  at  Mrs.  Van  Huyn's, 
it  was  at  Mrs.  Jamieson's,  and  if  not  there,  Jack 
found  his  way  to  the  hotel.  It  was  singular,  she 
had  remarked  to  herself,  how  he  seemed  to  run 
across  her  path  at  all  sorts  of  odd  hours.  Two 
weeks  previously  she  had  not  known  him  or  even 
seen  him.  Now,  she  could  not  make  a  call  that  he 
did  not  drop  in  at  the  same  place.  Indeed  she  could 
hardly  go  to  shop/  anywhere  that  she  did  not 
meet  him.  This  gave  her  a  good  deal  to  think 
about,  or,  perhaps-  it  were  better  said,  it  gave  her 
reason  to  think  a  great  deal  about  Jack.  She  did, 
and  the  more  she  saw  him  the  better  she  liked  him. 
She  admitted  this  to  herself  with  a  blush. 

On  Jack's  part  he  frankly  confessed  to  himself 
that  the  girl  fascinated  him.  He  was  far  from 
admitting  he  was  in  love  with  her  or  anything 
approaching  it.  Her  beauty,  the  brightness  of  her 


114        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

mind,  the  virility  of  her  individuality,  he  acknowl- 
edged strongly  attracted  him  ;  and  moreover  she 
was  a  study  of  interest,  knowing  as  he  did  that  she 
was  what  she  was.  Of  all  the  contradictory  per- 
sons he  had  ever  met,  she  puzzled  him  most,  and 
he  thought  that  it  must  be  the  peculiarity  of  her 
moral  nature,  so  perverted  and  distorted,  that 
caused  the  fascination.  Having  delivered  her 
letters,  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should  not 
have  carried  into  effect  his  prudent  determination 
to  leave  the  city.  But'he  could  not.  He  could 
not  bring  himself  to  consent  to  an  interruption  of 
the  acquaintance  which  had  been  formed.  Indeed, 
he  had  gotten  into  that  condition  when  he  con- 
sidered that  day  ill  spent  a  portion  of  which  was 
not  passed  in  her  society.  "  Now,"  said  he  to  him- 
self one  day,  rather  proudly  and  self-approvingly, 
*  most  men  in  my  shoes  would  have  fallen  des- 
perately in  love  with  her.  But  I  only  find  in  her 
an  interest  of  an  intense  and  fascinating  kind,  like 
that  I  had  in  that  curious  and  beautiful  snake  I 
used  to  go  to  see  in  the  Park  daily  a  couple  of 
years  ago.  The  idea  of  loving  one  who  is  given 
to  the  pleasant  pursuit  of  assassination  !  She  is 
beautiful,  and  it  is  true  that  one  side  of  her  nature 
is  very  sweet  and  winsome." 

Ah,  Jack ! 

The  Captain  lost  no  time  in  acting  on  his  su- 
perior's command.  Dressing  himself  with  more 
than  usual  care,  he  shortly  presented  himself  at 

the  desk  of  the  B hotel  and  desired  his  card  to 

be  sent  to  Miss  Sherman. 

Fortunately  for  that  young  la"dy,  she  was  in  the 
corridor  near  the  parlor  when  the  Captain's  card 
was  brought  to  her  by  an  attendant. 

Not  seriously  alarmed,  but  much  perplexed,  she 
hastened  to  the  public  parlor  where  the  detective 
was  awaiting  her. 


SETTING    THE   LINES.  115 

As  she  entered  he  arose  and  greeted  her  by 
name. 

"  You  know  my  name  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"Yes,"  he  replied  smilingly,  "or  I  should  not 
have  been  able  to  send  my  card  to  you." 

"  But  I  thought  I  had  taken  all  precautions  to 
prevent  your  knowing  it." 

"  To  learn  the  name  of  any  one  in  the  city  is  a 
very  simple  matter  for  the  police  department,"  he 
replied  blandly.  "I  have  known  your  name  since 
the  day  you  called  upon  me." 

Lucy  was  dumbfounded  ;  she  had  no  reply  she 
could  make.  The  Captain  continued  : 

"  I  received  your  note.  I  am  glad  you  recovered 
your  letters.  You  must  feel  easier.  I  suppose  you 
have  burned  them  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  wonderingly. 

"  That  was  wise.  They  are  now  out  of  the  way 
forever." 

He  was  striving  to  gain  her  confidence,  but  Lucy 
felt  that  his  call  upon  her  was  not  made  simply  to 
felicitate  her  upon  her  recovery  of  her  letters,  and 
this  thought  alarmed  her. 

"  Through  what  means  did  you  regain  them  ?  " 
he  asked,  as  if  he  was  inspired  by  an  interest  in 
her  fortunes. 

She  had  apprehended  that  question  and  dreaded  it. 

"  I  can  not  tell  you  that,"  she  replied  hurriedly. 

The  Captain  smiled.  It  was  his  habit  to  smile 
when  he  was  rebuffed,  and  it  was  a  smile  which 
meant  that  he  was  put  off  for  the  present,  but  he 
would  get  round  to  it  again  soon. 

"  I  think  I  can  convince  you  in  a  moment  that  it 
would  be  wise  to  do  so  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  do  it  and  I  won't." 

"  Of  course  I  have  no  desire  to  force  you  to  do 
anything  against  your  will." 

Lucy  drew  herself  up  with  resentment  and  said  : 


n6        JACK  CORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Your  desires  can  not  influence  me  in  any  way." 

The  Captain  smiled  and  continued  : 

"  I  would  respectfully  call  your  attention  to  the 
fact  that  justice  must  be  done.  You  see  I've  got 
to  make  a  report  some  time  or  another  on  this  case, 
and  I've  got  to  tell  everything  that  might  seem  to 
bear  on  it — even  of  your  call  on  me.  Now,  it 
wouldn't  be  pleasant,  would  it,  to  have  your  name 
dragged  in  ?  Suppose  then  you  were  to  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it  to  me,  I  could  judge  whether  it 
was  necessary  to  say  anything  about  it.  If  I  do 
have  to  put  your  name  in  the  report  as  one  who 
knows  something  that  might  be  important,  why, 
you  see,  you  might  have  to  go  on  the  witness 
stand  and  have  to  answer  questions  as  to  your 
relations  to  Renfrew,  you  know." 

Lucy  was  frightened  ;  all  the  horrible  possibili- 
ties rolled  in  upon  her,  and  the  Captain,  seeing  the 
impression  he  had  made,  followed  up  his  advantage  : 

"  I  haven't  got  anything  I  want  to  conceal  from 
you.  I  don't  think  for  a  moment  that  there  is  any- 
thing you  want  to  hide  for  yourself  except  about 
the  letters  and  your  connection  with  Renfrew. 
You  don't  want  to  get  dragged  into  this  affair, 
nor  do  you  want  any  friend  of  yours  dragged  in. 
I  know  how  it  is,  and  you  think  the  way  to  keep 
out  is  to  keep  your  mouth  shut.  Now  that's  where 
you  make  a  mistake.  I've  got  to  find  something 
out  about  Renfrew,  about  his  friends,  his  life,  and 
ways — " 

"  But  I  don't  know  anything  about  him  or  how  he 
lived.  I  had  just  this  foolish  flirtation  with  him," 
interrupted  Luc)T,  in  her  alarm  and  agitation  cling- 
ing to  her  first  story. 

This  so  entirely  coincided  with  the  Captain's 
views  that  he  remarked  as  he  continued  : 

"  If  you  say  so,  why  of  course  I'll  believe  you. 
That's  what  you  said  before,  and  what  you  say  now, 


SE  T  TING    THE  LINES.      •  1 1 7 

So  that  ends  that  part,  unless  you  will  let  me  ask, 
if  you  knew  any  one  who  did  know  Renfrew?" 

"  No,  I  never  did,"  replied  Lucy  promptly. 

"  That's  what  I  expected,"  continued  the  Cap- 
tain. "  But  then  there's  your  recovery  of  your  let- 
ters. How  did  that  come  about  ?  If  Renfrew  gave 
those  letters  to  any  one,  why,  it  must  have  been 
some  one  he  was  friendly  to,  intimate  with,  you 
know.  Now,  all  I  want  to  know  is  that  man,  so  I 
could  talk  with  him.  See  !  That  would  let  you 
out.  Your  name  wouldn't  come  out  because  there 
wouldn't  be  any  necessity." 

"He  could  tell  you  nothing." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ? " 

"  Quite.     He  told  me  so  himself." 

"  Still,  he  might  know  something  it  would  be  of 
value  for  me  to  know  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  sure  it  would  be  useless.  He  never 
saw  Mr.  Renfrew  until  the  day  of — " 

She  stopped  short,  for  she  was  heedlessly  rush- 
ing into  a  blunder.  The  Captain,  who  was  gazing 
upon  her  with  a  bland,  even  a  vacuous  stare,  never 
by  so  much  as  a  quiver  intimated  that  he  saw  any- 
thing unusual  in  her  hesitation.  But,  he  com- 
pleted the  sentence  for  her — "  the  murder — ah,  the 
young  man  of  whom  we  have  no  trace." 

"  No,  the  day  before  the  delivery  of  the  package 
to  me." 

Lucy  thought  she  had  cleverly  recovered  herself. 
Moreover,  as  she  looked  at  the  Captain,  she 
thought,  "  These  detectives  have  the  reputation  of 
being  very  clever,  but  if  they  are  all  like  this  one 
they  are  very  stupid." 

The  "  very  stupid  "  detective  confirmed  her  in 
her  opinion  by  replying  : 

"  If  that  is  so,  may  be  you  are  right.  Let  me 
see,  you  received  that  package  Thursday  of  last 
week/' 


n8        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ? " 

"  That's  the  day  you  wrote  me  you  had  got  them. 
The  day  before  you  were  at  my  office  looking  for 
them." 

Lucy  for  the  first  time  saw  how  ill-advised  the 
writing  of  that  note  was.  She  made  no  reply. 

The  Captain,  taking  a  small  memorandum-book 
from  his  vest-pocket,  turned  over  the  leaves  delib- 
erately, Lucy  eyeing  him  suspiciously. 

Finally  he  said  : 

"  The  gentleman  you  received  it  from  was  Mr. 
John  Gordon." 

Lucy  was  overwhelmed  ;  the  Captain  saw  that 
he  had  made  a  hit. 

"  It  was  the  package  he  gave  you  in  this  very 
room." 

She  was  speechless,  angry,  frightened. 

"  If  he  talked  with  Renfrew  the  day  before  that, 
then  it  must  have  been  on  the  day  of  the  murder." 

The  reasoning  was  conclusive.  He  was  not  so 
stupid  after  all. 

"  If  he  saw  Renfrew  and  talked  to  him  on  the 
day  of  the  murder,  then  he  must  have  seen  the 
actor  in  his  rooms,  for  Renfrew  didn't  leave  'em 
that  day.  So  Mr. -Gordon  must  have  been  the 
young  man  who  called  on  him  that  we've  been 
looking  for  and  couldn't  find." 

She  could  not  answer.  The  accuracy  of  his 
reasoning  overpowered  her. 

"  This  makes  it  necessary  to  see  Mr.  Gordon," 
said  the  Captain,  rising.  "  I  thank  you,  lady,  for 
your  information.  There's  no  necessity  for  your 
name  to  come  into  the  report." 

He  bowed,  walked  away,  leaving  Lucy  crushed 
and  thoroughly  alarmed. 

Oh,  what  had  she  done  !  By  her  heedlessness 
she  had  brought  trouble  on  one  who  had  only 
known  her  to  befriend  her.  She  had  been  watched. 


SETTING    THE  LINES.  119 

They  had  both  been  spied  upon.  She  must  see 
Mr.  Gordon  arid  at  once.  She  ran  to  her  room 
and  wrote  a  note  briefly  : 

"  DEAR  MR.  GORDON  : — 

"  I  must  see  you  as  soon  as  possible.     Do  come  at  once, 
please.     Something  terrible  has  occurred.     It  affects  you. 
' '  Very  gratefully  yours, 

"  LUCY  SHERMAN." 

But  his  address  ?  She  did  not  know  it.  She 
thought  a  moment,  then  hastily  donning  her  outer 
garments,  hurried  to  the  house  of  her  friend  and 
chaperon,  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,  to  obtain  Jack's  ad- 
dress, from  whence  she  sent  it.  Then  hurrying 
back,  she  awaited  with  anxiety  his  coming. 

In  the  mean  time  Captain  Lawton  went  back  to 
the  headquarters  quite  satisfied  with  his  afternoon's 
work.  "  One  more  step  forward,"  he  said,  "  and 
we'll  get  to  the  third  caller  and  the  one." 


CHAPTER   XV. 

JACK   IS   ENTANGLED. 

IT  so  happened  that  on  the  day  when  Lucy  sent 
so  urgently  for  him,  Jack  had  been  induced  to 

go  up-town  and  look  at  some  purchases  of  horses 
"  Dizzy  "  Lowell  had  been  making,  and  instead  of 
returning  to  his  apartments  as  was  his  invariable 
custom  in  the  late  afternoon,  had  dined  with  his 
friend,  stayed  the  evening  with  him  and  "  Dizzy's  " 
fair  sister,  Mollie,  until  a  late  hour.  Indeed,  it 
was  so  late  when  he  did  return  and  found  the 
note  and  two  subsequent  ones  Lucy  had  sent  in 
her  extreme  urgency,  that  it  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion to  think  of  calling  upon  her  that  night.  He 
determined  he  would  go  to  her  as  early  the  next 
morning  as  the  proprieties  would  permit. 

"  I  wonder  what  it  is  that  disturbs  the  fair  dis- 
patcher of  men  ? "  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  prepared 
to  disrobe  for  the  night.  "  It  affects  me,  does  it  ? 
Well,  it's  all  very  flattering  to  have  so  beautiful  a 
woman  so  anxious  about  your  welfare,  Jack,  my 
boy,  but — "  his  sentence  ended  in  a  yawn,  and  was 
never  completed. 

Earlier  than  usual  the  next  morning  Jack  dressed 
and  went  to  breakfast  at  th'e  restaurant  which  he 
usually  patronized. 

Leisurely   reading   his   paper    and    sipping   his 

coffee,  so  as  to  consume  as  much  time  as  possible, 

he  was  not  aware  that  the  person  sitting  at  the 

table  near  by  was  patiently  waiting  for  him  to  rise. 

120 


JA  CK  IS  EN  7' A  NGLED.  I 2 1 

When  he  did,  the  person  stepped  across  the 
room,  and  politely  said  : 

"  I  presume  I  address  Mr.  Gordon — Mr.  John 
Gordon  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  name,"  replied  Jack  courteously, 
picking  up  his  papers  from  the  table. 

"  Captain  Lawton  wishes  to  see  you." 

The  tone  in  which  this  was  said  rather  nettled 
Jack,  for  it  conveyed  the  idea  that  there  was  noth- 
ing left  for  him  to  do  but  to  run  at  once  to  the 
Captain. 

"  Captain  who  ? "  said  Jack  stiffly. 

"  Captain  Lawton,  the  detective." 

"  Well,  if  Captain  Lawton,  the  detective,  wants 
to  see  me,  let  him  come  at  any  hour  I  am  at  home," 
said  Jack,  taking  his  hat  from  an  adjoining  chair. 

"  The  business  is  important,"  was  the  reply. 

"  It  must  be  to  him  then,  for  it  is  not  to  me.  So 
much  more  reason  why  he  should  seek  me.  I  do 
not  desire  to  see  Captain  Lawton." 

The  messenger  was  embarrassed,  and  hesitated 
as  if  he  did  not  know  how  to  proceed. 

Jack  moved  off  as  if  to  leave  the  room. 

"  It  would  be  wiser  if  you  were  to  call  upon 
him." 

"  I  never  do  wise  things,"  retorted  Jack.  "  So  I 
won't  go.  Your  friend  the  Captain  is  impertinent." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  don't  understand,"  said  the 
man,  after  a  moment's  hesitation.  "You  have  no 
choice.  My  instructions  were  to  treat  you  with 
every  consideration.  But  you  make  it  hard  for 
me." 

A  light  broke  in  on  Jack. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Officer  Oliver,  of  the  detective  force." 

"  Oh  !     What  does  the  Captain  want  of  me  ? " 

"  He  will  inform  you  when  you  see  him." 

"  Very  well,  I  will  call  upon  him  later  in  the  day. 


122        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

I  have  a  matter  to  attend  to  which  will  occupy  an 
hour." 

"  That  I  can  not  permit,  sir.  The  Captain  is 
waiting  for  you  now." 

By  this  time  Jack  recognized  that  he  was  prac- 
tically under  arrest.  He  was  angry,  but  retained 
sufficient  self-command  to  exercise  his  common- 
sense,  and  he  realized  it  were  better  to  yield  than 
to  make  a  scene. 

"  Very  well,  I  will  go,"  he  said.  "  Follow,  me 
at  some  distance." 

Jack  went  out,  followed  by  the  detective,  and  took 
the  street-car  which  passed  the  door.  Having 
smothered  his  irritation  as  best  he  could,  and 
having  given  himself  up  to  cool  thought,  he  found 
reasons  to  connect  his  summons  to  the  Central 
Office  with  Lucy's  urgent  notes  of  the  night  pre- 
vious. He  believed  that  by  some  means  he  had 
been  identified  with  the  young  man  who  had  called 
on  Renfrew  on  that  fateful  day,  and  he  heartily 
condemned  himself  for  not  having  left  the  town, 
as  he  promised  himself  to  do,  on  the  morning  fol- 
lowing the  murder. 

He  was  deep  in  thought  when  his  attention  was 
arrested  by  the  detective,  who,  rising  from  his  seat, 
cast  a  significant  look  on  Jack.  He  saw  that  they 
were  at  the  end  of  the  journey  by  the  street-car. 

Alighting,  he  walked  briskly  to  the  Headquarters, 
followed  by  his  attendant.  As  he  entered  he  was 
directed  to  the  office  of  the  Captain. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Gordon,"  said  that  official, 
rising  and  extending  his  hand,  which  Jack  quietly 
ignored,  and,  instead,  took  a  chair  in  a  part  of 
the  room  that  suited  him.  The  captain  looked  with 
some  interest  upon  Jack's  coolness,  and,  indeed, 
ostentatious  insolence. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  he  began,  "  that  my  summons — ' 

"  Your  summons  was  a  piece  of  impertinence," 


JACK  IS  ENTANGLED.  12$ 

interrupted  Jack,  "  to  which  I  would  not  have  sub- 
mitted but  that  I  did  not  want  a  scene.  If  you 
think  I  am  going  to  submit  tamely  to  this,  you  do 
not  know  me.  1  propose  to  punish  you  for  this." 

"  You'll  punish  no  one  but  yourself,  Mr.  Gordon," 
said  the  Captain,  with  his  inscrutable  smile. 

Jack  looked  at  the  Captain  straight  in  the  eyes 
with  the  utmost  contempt  expressed  on  his  coun- 
tenance. 

"  You  are  made  of  too  poor  stuff  to  think  of 
frightening  me.  I  don't  frighten.  I  am  a  very 
different  kind  of  a  person  from  the  poor  criminals 
you  are  in  the  habit  of  dealing  with.  I  am  your 
superior  in  the  one  thing  in  which  you  might  ex- 
pect to  approach  my  level— shrewdness." 

Jack  was  quite  evidently  endeavoring  to  irritate 
the  Captain,  hoping  to  get  up  a  quarrel  under  the 
cover  of  which  he  could  refuse  to  answer  such 
questions  as  would  involve  the  name  of  Lucy. 

"Now  go  on,"  he  continued,  "and  be  quick 
about  it.  Yes,  I  called  on  Renfrew  the  day  he 
was  murdered.  That  is  what  you  want  to  know  ?" 

The  Captain  was  somewhat  disconcerted  by  this 
sudden  admission,  and  felt  that  he  had  before  him 
a  more  difficult  case  than  he  had  bargained  for. 
He  had  only  known  Gordon  as  one  of  the  fashion- 
able young  men  of  the  day,  and  had  supposed  he 
was  one  who  could  be  easily  frightened,  if  not 
because  of  the  want  of  inherent  manhood,  at  least 
through  fear  of  being  produced  on  the  witness 
stand.  He  soon  found  that  in  this  he  was  mis- 
taken. He  did  conclude,  however,  Jack  had  adopt- 
ed the  tone  he  had  for  the  purpose  of  irritating 
him. 

"  I  regret,"  he  said,  "you  take  my  summons — " 

"  Never  mind  your  regrets,"  interrupted  Jack, 
"  I  recognize  that  you  detectives  are  necessary 
evils,  and  so  long  as  there  are  men  to  be  found  low 


124       JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

enough  to  follow  spying  as  a  business  for  money, 
we  must  be  annoyed  by  them.  Get  on  with  your 
business." 

Stung  as  he  was,  the  Captain  bravely  curbed  his 
temper. 

"  I  sent  for  you,"  replied  the  Captain,  firmly  and 
decidedly, — "  I  sent  for  you  to  know  from  whom 
you  received  that  package  of  letters  you  gave 
Miss  Sherman  on  Friday  last  ?  " 

"  You're  too  inquisitive,"  replied  Jack  ;  but  not- 
withstanding his  self-possession  he  was  disturbed. 
How  did  the  Captain  know  the  package  had  been 
delivered  ?  Had  Lucy  admitted  it  ?  She  must 
have  done  so.  Evidently  the  detective  knew  Lucy 
had  called  on  Renfrew  the  day  of  the  murder. 
Yes,  that  was  it.  They  had  frightened  her  into  an 
admission,  as  they  were  trying  to  frighten  him. 
He  must  be  wary  and  carefully  guard  every  answer. 
The  Captain  discovered  that  he  was  not  an  easy 
subject. 

"  I  can  understand  your  annoyance,  Mr.  Gor- 
don," replied  the  detective  with  great  firmness. 
"But  you  must  understand  that  there  is  nothing- 
inquisitive  in  trying  to  trace  crime.  You  are  not 
wise  in  your  treatment  of  me.  Your  insults  do 
not  prevent  me  from  knowing  that  you  got  those 
letters  from  Cyril  Renfrew." 

"  If  you  knew,  why  did  you  ask  ? "  hotly  returned 
Jack.  "  That  is  another  impertinence." 

"  You  got  those  letters,"  continued  the  detective, 
ignoring  Jack's  remark,  "  on  the  day — on  the  after- 
noon of  the  day  he  was  murdered." 

"  Well,  and  what  then  ?  " 

"  You  must  see  that  brings  you  pretty  close-  to 
the  murder." 

"  No,  I  do  not." 

"  It  makes  you  a  witness  at  the  trial." 

"  Bah,  you  talk  like  a  child  !  " 


JACK  IS  ENTANGLED.  12$ 

"Why  did  he  give  them  to  you  ?  " 

Jack  did  not  answer. 

"  He  refused  to  give  them  to  the  one  who  wrote 
them  an  hour  previous  when  she  visited  him,"  con- 
tinued the  Captain. 

"  He  has  evidently  frightened  Lucy  into  tell- 
ing," thought  Jack.  "  That  was  the  reason  of 
her  urgent  notes.  Well,  as  she  didn't  know  how  I 
got  them  she  couldn't  tell  him;  that's  why  he  sends 
for  me." 

"  I  am  waiting  for  your  answer,  Mr.  Gordon," 
said  the  detective,  in  the  tone  of  one  who  was  de- 
termined to  have  his  question  answered.  "  Why 
did  he  give  them  to  you  ? " 

"  Because  I  asked  for  them." 

"  Did  you  go  at  the  request  of  the  lady  ? " 

"  No,  I  did  not." 

The  Captain  was  not  prepared  for  this  answer, 
and  it  changed  the  course  of  his  proposed  exami- 
nation. 

"  Then  why  did  you  go  to  him  for  those  particu- 
lar letters  ? "  " 

"  Now,"  said  Jack,  leaning  forward  and  looking 
steadily  at  the  detective,  "  let  us  understand  each 
other.  I  know,  and  you  know,  that  you  have  no 
more  right  to  ask  me  questions  than  the  first  boy 
in  the  street.  You  detectives  assume  a  right  from 
your  position,  which  is  simply  that  of  thief-taker. 
No  compulsion  rests  upon  me  to  answer  you.  I 
know  that,  and  you  know  it.  Guilty  men  who 
desire  to  placate  you  recognize  your  right, — I  don't. 
You  had  no  business  to  summon  me  here.  The 
fact  that  I  call  on  a  man  one  day,  and  that  subse- 
quently, after  others  have  called  upon  him,  he  is  mur- 
dered, gives  you  no  right  over  me.  There  is  a 
power  you  do  possess, — it  is  the  same  a  mosquito 
has,  the  power  to  annoy— a  power  you  use  in  the  same 
way  that  scoundrel  Renfrew  did — it  is  a  kind  of 


126        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

blackmail.  Having  made  you  understand  that  I 
know  just  how  we  stand,  and  having  nothing  to 
conceal,  I'll  answer  your  question.  It  was  because 
I  knew  that  Renfrew  had  a  package  of  letters  from 
the  lady  which  he  was  using  to  her  disadvantage. 
I  was  interested  in  the  lady,  and  I  served  her 
because  I  knew  she  was  in  trouble." 

"  She  gave  you  her  confidence  then  ?  " 

"  How  else  do  you  suppose  I  knew  it?  " 

Jack  had  hesitated  over  this  reply,  and  the 
detective  promptly  noted  the  hesitation  without 
understanding  it. 

"  I  ask  you  the  question,"  he  said. 

"  And  I  reply  with  another,"   retorted  Jack. 

The  Captain  thought  he  was  not  making  much 
progress. 

"  Did  Renfrew  yield  them  up  willingly  ?  " 

"  Yes,  when  he  knew  he  had  to,  or  stand  the 
cot. sequence  of  a  prosecution  for  blackmail." 

"  But  that  would  have  ruined  the  lady,"  the  Cap- 
tain ventured. 

"  Possibly,"  said  Jack,  and  then  laughed.  "  He 
was  the  kind  of  fellow  you  took  me  for — easily 
frightened.  But  what  is  the  use  of  all  this  ?  Either 
you  are  purposely  stupid,  or  you  are  unfit  for  your 
place,  if  you  can  not  see  that  the  moment  a  man  of 
de'ernnination  stepped  in  between  this  fellow  and  the 
girt,  his  game  was  up.  When  she  refused  to  be  plun- 
de*"ed  longer,  backed  by  a  male  friend,  he  couldn't  ex- 
pose her  without  subjecting  himself  to  prosecution  for 
blackmail.  Just  as  soon  as  there  was  a  third  per- 
son in  the  case,  he  was  done.  He  could  succeed  only 
through  her  fear  and  silence.  After  that  it  was 
easy  to  receive  and  demand  the  letters.  He  was 
already  liable." 

"  This  is  a  keen,  able  fellow,"  said  the  detective 
to  himself.  Then  aloud:  "  What  was  the  nature  of 
those  letters  ? " 


JACK  IS  ENTANGLED.  127 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  The  lady  never  told  you  ?  " 

-"  No." 

"  Yet  you  assisted  her  without  knowing  what  they 
were  about  ? " 

"  Precisely.  It  was  enough  to  know  that  she  was 
in  trouble." 

"  Ah,  a  gallant  gentleman — a  generous  friend," 
sneered  the  detective.  He  was  trying  to  irritate 
Jack. 

"  As  you  say,"  replied  Jack,  smiling  to  think  what 
the  Captain  would  say  if  he  knew  all. 

"  How  long  was  this  package  in  your  possession?  " 

"  A  couple  of  days." 

"  And  you  never  read  the  letters  ?  " 

"No.     They  were  secrets  of  the  lady." 

"  Very  remarkable.  Now,  I  would  have  read 
those  letters." 

"  Undoubtedly.  But  you  see  I  am  a  gentleman, 
and  a  gentleman  is  hampered  by  considerations  of 
honor  and  delicacy." 

This  was  said  with  the  most  studied  insolence. 
The  Captain  bit  his  lip  to  restrain  the  angry  words 
that  leaped  to  his  tongue,  all  the  more  annoyed 
that  he  himself  had  made  the  opening  for  the 
shot. 

"  So  Renfrew  yielded  willingly  ?  "  he  pursued. 

"  Yes.     After  argument." 

"  Enforced  by  a  bullet,  and  when  he  could  not  pre- 
vent it?"  said  the  Captain  maliciously. 

Jack  looked  at  him  with  contempt. 

;'  You  are  silly.  If  you  know  I  went  to  see  Ren- 
frew, you  must  know  that  a  lady  called  to  see  him 
after  I  did." 

"  Still,  she  may  have  found  him  dead  and  gone 
away  quietly." 

"  Pshaw,"  said  Jack  contemptuously,  u  this  sort 
of  sparring  is  useless  !  You  know  that  the  occupant 


128        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

of   a   neighboring  room  heard  the  two  quarreling 
after  I  went  away." 

"  Who  was  the  lady  who  came  after  you  ?  " 

"I  don't  know." 

"  What  were  your  relations  to  her?  " 
•  "  Don't  try  any  traps  with  me.     I've  told  you  the 
truth.     I  don't  know  who  she  was." 

".Was  it  Miss  Sherman  ?  " 

"  When  I  tell  you  I  don't  know  who  she  was,  I 
tell  you  she  was  not  Miss  Sherman.  That  was  plain 
to  be  seen.  Whoever  it  was,  was  shorter  and  more 
mature  than  Miss  Sherman." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  Renfrew  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  Never  saw  him  before  that  day  to 
talk  to  him." 

"  I  believe  the  fellow,"  the  Captain  said  to  him- 
self. "  He  is  telling  the  truth,  but  there  is  some- 
thing he  is  holding  back." 

He  rose,  and,  going  to  his  desk,  opened  a  drawer 
from  which  he  took  some  papers.  As  he  did  so, 
he  made  sure  that  Gordon  was  watching  him. 

He  took  out  the  pistol  with  which  Renfrew  had 
been  killed,  and  laid  it  in  plain  sight. 

Gordon  started  on  seeing  it,  and  leaned  forward 
to  look  at  it.  The  detective  followed  the  lead  thus 
given  him. 

Lifting  a  paper  from  the  drawer,  he  looked  over 
it,  literally,  for  his  eyes  were  upon  Gordon,  and  he 
saw  a  singular  variety  of  expressions  flit  over  Jack's 
face,  the  most  marked  of  which  were  surprise  and 
perplexity.  Putting  the  paper  back  again  in  the 
drawer,  he  picked  up  the  pistol,  saying: 

"  This  is  the  joker  that  did  for  Renfrew." 

"  This  ? "  said  Jack  in  blank  amazement.  Then 
he  stretched  out  his  hand  for  it.  The  Captain 
passed  it  to  him. 

Jack  looked  at  it  most  carefully  ;  examined  it  in 
every  part ;  and  then,  to  the  Captain's  intense  sur- 


JACK  IS  ENTANGLED.  129 

prise,  touched  a  concealed  spring,  revealing  in  the 
end  of  the  butt  a  receptacle  for  caps — a  feature  of 
the  pistol  which  no  one  had  discovered  before,  and 
which  argued  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  it  upon 
the  part  of  Jack.  The  truth  was  Jack  had  be- 
trayed himself.  He  had  been  attacked  from  a 
point  where  he  expected  none.  He  passed  it  back 
to  the  Captain  without  a  word. 

"Whose  pistol  is  that  ?"  demanded  the  detec- 
tive. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Jack.  This  time  the 
hesitation  was  unmistakable. 

"  Now  you  are  not  telling  me  the  truth,"  said  the 
Captain.  "  You  recognized  it  the  moment  you  saw 
it,  and  I  am  going  to  find  out  whose  it  is." 

"  I  suppose  there  are  more  than  one  of  this  kind 
made,"  said  Jack  uneasily. 

This  was  almost  a  confession.  The  fact  was, 
Jack  was  overwhelmed  with  astonishment. 

"True,"  said  the  detective,  "  but  its  mate  can't 
be  found  in  this  city.  Now,  whose  is  it  ? " 

Jack  was  conscious  of  his  error,  and  he  did  not 
reply. 

"  Does  this  pistol  belong  to  Miss  Lucy  Sher- 
man ? " 

"  I  never  saw  it  or  one  like  it  in  her  possession 
or  of  any  one  belonging  to  her."  He  had  recovered 
possession  of  himself. 

"  Then  if  it  does  not  belong  to  her,  who  does  it 
belong  to  ? " 

Jack  saw  that  he  could  not  make  it  plain  that  it 
was  not  Lucy's  -without  going  further  than  he  in- 
tended to.  He  did  not  reply. 

"  Whose  pistol  do  you  think  that  is  ?  "  demanded 
the  Captain  again. 

"  I  won't  tell  you,"  replied  Jack;  and  then  deter- 
mining to  save  Lucy,  he  added  :  "  I  think  I  have 
seen  a  similar  pistol  in  the  possession  of  a  person  who 


13°        JACK  CORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

has  not  yet  been  mentioned,  even  remotely,  in  this 
matter ;  but  I  am  going  to  make  no  mistake,  and 
will  throw  suspicion  on  nobody  until  I  am  certain." 

"  Ah  !  Then  we've  got  to  the  point  when  I  shall 
not  handle  you  with  gloves  any  longer." 

"  Pouf  !  " 

"  Do  you  know  the  conclusions  you  force  me  to?" 

"  No,  nor  do  I  care." 

"  Either  you  recognize  that  pistol  as  your  own, 
or  you  have  seen  that  particular  pistol  in  the  posses- 
sion of  some  else." 

"  Well,  what  then  ? " 

"  You  are  connected  with  that  murder." 

"  And  then  what  ?" 

"  You  are  either  the  murderer  or  the  one  witness 
who  can  point  directly  to  the  person  who  did  the 
deed." 

"  And  then  what  ?" 

"  Well,  for  the  present,  you  have  lost  your  lib- 
erty." 

Jack  was  hardly  prepared  for  this  statement,  but 
he  was  unmoved. 

"  As  for  being  the  murderer,  you  know  that  is 
absurd.  As  for  telling  you  who  I  think  may  have 
owned  that  pistol,  or  guessing  at  it,  that  is  still 
more  absurd,"  he  replied. 

"  All  right,  you  will  stay  here  until  I  return." 

He  touched  an  electric  button  on  his  desk  twice. 

Two  men  entered. 

"  Search  this  man  for  arms,"  he  continued. 

Jack  laughed  contemptuously. 

"  I  have  none,"  he  said,  "  but  look  for  them." 

None  having  been  found,  the  Captain  took  his  hat 
and  coat,  saying  to  the  two  officers  who  had  come 
at  his  bidding  : 

"Watch  this  man  until  I  come  back.  I  am  going 
to  consult  the  Inspector." 

Jack  laughed  again,  and  asked  for  a  newspaper. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

BEHIND     THE      BARS. 

LUCY  awaited  with  impatience  almost  unbear- 
able the  coming  of  Jack  in  response  to  her 
urgent  letters.  When  it  grew  too  late  to  ex- 
pect him  that  night,  she  retired  worried,  and  in  no 
enviable  frame  of  mind. 

The  next  morning,  having  waited  a  reasonable 
time  and  unable  to  bear  the  suspense  longer,  she 
ordered  her  carriage  and  accompanied  by  her  faith- 
ful maid  drove  to  Gordon's  apartments.  Fortu- 
nately for  her,  Dr.  Sherman  had  left  the  city  for  a 
few  days,  and  she  was  comparatively  a  free  agent. 

Arriving  at  the  house  where  Gordon  lived,  she 
sent  her  maid  for  the  janitor,  who  said  Mr.  Gor- 
don had  gone  out  early  in  the  morning,  and  he  was 
quite  certain  had  not  returned.  However,  he  would 
goto  his  rooms  and  find  out.  After  a  few  minutes  he 
returned  accompanied  by  Crimmins,  who  evidently 
was  quite  agitated.  He  said  that  Mr.  Gordon  had 
been  absent  all  the  day  previous,  not  returning 
until  after  midnight  ;  that  it  was  not  until  then  that 
he  had  read  the  three  letters  awaiting  him  :  that 
he  seemed  much  annoyed,  and  was  disposed  to 
blame  Crimmins  for  not  hunting  him  up  to  deliver 
them  ;  that  that  morning  he  had  gone  out  to  break- 
fast, saying  he  would  be  away  two  hours  ;  he  had 
seen  nothing  of  him  since,  but  he  had  just  then  re- 
ceived a  note  from  Mr.  Gordon  telling  him  to  bring 
a  lot  of  clothing  and  reading-material  to  the  Lud' 
low  Street  Jail. 


132         JACK  GORDOX,  KX1GH T  ERRAXT. 

Lucy,  now  thoroughly  alarmed,  was  quite  certain 
he  was  imprisoned  as  a  result  of  her  want  of  cau- 
tion in  her  interview  with  Captain  Lawton.  It  was 
to  prevent  just  this  that  she  had  so  urgently 
written  him  the  night  previous,  and  all  her  efforts 
had  been  unavailing.  She  must  see  him,  and  she 
must  tell  him  that  it  was  not  because  she  had  not 
intended  to  be  true  to  him  that  he  was  now  in  this 
trouble. 

She  gave  orders  to  be  driven  to  the  Central 
Office.  Being  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the 
Captain,  she  found  that  official  somewhat  ruffled, 
and  not  feeling  kindly  toward  Jack,  for  that  young 
gentleman  had  not  only  not  treated  him  with  defer- 
ence, but  had  shown  him  positive  contempt.  He 
received  the  lady  politely,  however. 

"  I  have  called  to  know  where  Mr.  Gordon  is," 
said  Lucy,  scorning  all  subterfuge.  "  Do  you 
know  where  he  is  ?  " 

The  Captain  smiled. 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  know  something  of  his  where- 
abouts." 

"  Oh,  then,  please  tell  me." 

"  May  I  ask  what  your  relations  to  Mr.  Gordon 
are  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  very  dear  friend." 

The  Captain  smiled  again,  and  not  unkindly,  for 
he  thought  they  were  lovers,  and  is  it  not  said  that 
'  all  the  world  loves  a  lover  '  ?  But  if  the  detective 
could  have  known  that  these  two  young  people 
were  not  acquainted  two  weeks  previous  to  that  day, 
he  would  have  had  other  food  for  thought.  But 
how  was  he  to  know  ?  There  was  every  indication 
of  a  long,  intimate,  and  confidential  acquaintance. 

"  But  where  is  he  ?"  she  asked  imploringly. 

"  He  is  detained  as  an  important  witness  in  the 
Renfrew  case." 

Lucy  gave  a  gasp  which  was  indicative  both  of 


BEHIND    THE  BARS.  133 

the  confirmation  of  her  fears  and  of  her  relief  in 
finding  he  was  not  arrested  for  murder,  but  she 
was  greatly  distressed. 

"  I  want  to  see  him,"  she  said,    "  I  must  see  him." 

The  Captain  thought  a  moment.  His  impulse 
was  to  send  for  Jack  and  let  him  meet  Lucy  in  his 
presence.  Then  he  doubted  whether  their  conver- 
sation would  be  unrestrained  enough  to  be  of  value 
to  him.  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  let  them 
meet  at  the  jail,  where  he  might  overhear  their 
conversation.  So  he  said  : 

"  I  will  see  whether  it  is  possible.  Wait  here  a 
moment." 

Going  into  the  outer  room  he  called  an  officer  in 
waiting,  and  instructed  him  to  go  to  the  place 
where  Gordon  was  confined  and  say  to  the  warden 
that  in  a  short  time  a  lady  would  call  asking  to 
see  him  ;  that  he,  the  Captain,  wanted  her  to  see 
Gordon,  but  not  until  after  he  had  had  time  to  get 
to  the  jail  after  her. 

Then  he  went  back  to  Lucy. 

"  I  have  arranged  so  that  you  can  see  Mr.  Gor- 
don presently,"  he  said.  "  But  I  should  like  to 
ask  you  a  question  before  you  go." 

Lucy  was  impatient  to  be  off,  and  made  no  effort 
to  conceal  her  feelings.  To  this  the  Captain  gave 
no  heed  ;  he  was  seeking  to  gain  time  for  his  mes- 
senger to  get  to  the  jail. 

"  I  should  like  to  know,"  he  asked,  "  exactly  what 
the  relations  were  between  you  and  Renfrew  ? " 

Lucy,  however,  had  had  quite  enough  of  Captain 
Lawton's  questions.  Was  not  Jack  now  im- 
prisoned through  her  answers  ?  She  had  grown 
wise  and  prudent.  The  Captain  might  question 
and  question,  but  he  would  have  nothing  more 
from  her. 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  tell  you  than  I  have 
already  told  you." 


134        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Does  that  mean,"  he  asked,  with  that  inscrut- 
able smile  of  his,  "  that  you  have  nothing  more  to 
tell  me,  or  that  you  will  not  tell  me  any  more  ?" 

"  Both." 

The  Captain  smiled  again. 

"  Can  you  not  even  tell  me  how  long  ago  it  was 
that  you  confided  the  story  of  your  trouble  to  Mr. 
Gordon  ?  " 

An  expression  of  obstinacy  had  settled  on 
Lucy's  face,  and  this  inquiry,  which  was  a  shot 
even  nearer  home  than  the  detective  himself  im- 
agined, she  would  not  respond  to,  but  only  because 
she  had  made  up  her  mind  not  to  answer  at  all. 

The  Captain  noted  her  obstinacy,  but  he  amused 
himself. 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  of  becoming  mixed  up  in  a 
scandal  by  refusing  to  tell  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  about  a  scandal — I  don't  care 
anything  about  a  scandal.  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Gor- 
don. That's  all." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  laughed  the  detective.  "  You 
will  find  Mr.  Gordon  at  the  Ludlow  Street  Jail. 
You  have  but  to  inquire  for  him." 

He  bowed  her  out,  and  prepared  to  follow 
her. 

The  doors  flew  open  at  her  approach  and  she 
was  received  with  politeness.  But  she  waited 
some  time  before  Jack  was  brought  to  her.  He 
was  greatly  surprised  to  find  his  visitor  was  Lucy, 
but  nevertheless  very  glad  to  see^her. 

Lucy,  running  impulsively  to  him,  said  : 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Gordon,  this  is  all  my  fault.  You  are 
in  trouble — in  this  disgraceful  place — all  through 
me." 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Gordon.  "  Compose  yourself  and 
be  careful  what  you  say.  We  may  be  overheard." 

They  were,  though  Jack  did  not  know  it. 

"  Do  not  think  it  is  your  fault.     There  is  no 


BEHIND    THE  BARS.  135 

danger  in  my  situation — there  is  only  some  tempo- 
rary inconvenience." 

"  No  danger,"  she  repeated,  looking  at  him 
anxiously,  while  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes  at 
the  thought. 

Jack  saw  the  tears  and  was  touched.  He  led 
her  to  a  corner  where  there  were  two  chairs,  near 
a  window  looking  out  on  a  dead  wail, -and,  seating 
her  in  one^took  the  other. 

"  Your  sympathy,  Miss  Sherman,  is  very  grate- 
ful," he  said,  "  but  I  do  hope  you  will  not  attribute 
my  present  position  to  anything  you  have  done." 

"  Oh,  but  I  can  not  believe  it,"  she  replied 
earnestly,  casting  upon  him  a  look  of  great  grati- 
tude. "  But  for  your  effort  to  serve  me,  I  am  sure 
you  would  not  now  be  in  this  predicament.  You 
did  not  get  my  notes  last  night.  I  feared  this,  and 
therefore  wrote  you." 

"  I  did  not  receive  them  until  too  late  to  respond, 
and  this  morning,  before  I  could  go  to  you,  I  was 
compelled  to  call  upon  Captain  Lawton." 

"  Captain  Lawton, — I  knew  it.  I  knew  it  was 
my  fault." 

She  told  him  with  strict  accuracy  her  interview 
with  the  Captain  the  day  previous.  Jack  listened 
attentively,  and  when  she  had  finished  said  : 

"  I  presume  that  interview  preceded  my  sum- 
mons. But  I  should  not  have  escaped.  You  were 
under  surveillance.  The  man  who  annoyed  me 
when  I  called  upon  you  to  deliver  the  package,  and 
who  twice  sauntered  so  close  to  us,  was  undoubt- 
edly a  police  spy.  He  saw  the  delivery  of  the 
package,  and  your  call  the  day  before  on  the  Cap- 
tain gave  the  reason  for  supposing  the  package  I 
gave  you  was  the  one  you  were  seeking  for,  espe- 
cially after  you  wrote  to  say  that  you  had  recovered 
your  letters." 

"  Yes,  but  you  see  all  that  directed  attention  to 


r36        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

you.  So  I  am  the  cause  of  your  trouble.  Oh,  how 
could  I  have  been  so  foolish  as  to  have  gone  to 
Captain  Lawton,  or  to  have  written  to  him  !  " 

"  I  don't  think  it  was  the  best-advised  thing  to 
have  done.  But  I  can  not  blame  you,  for  you  were 
naturally  anxious  about  your  letters." 

"  Oh,  the  letters  !  I  care  nothing  about  them. 
What  are  they  compared  with  the  danger  you  are 
in  ?  I  mean  to  tell  all  about  them  so  that  you  may 
be  taken  from  here.  All  the  trouble  they  can 
bring  me  into,  the  worst  they  can  do,  is  to  lose  me 
my  home  and  make  me  labor  for  my  food,  and 
what  is  that  compared  with  your  imprisonment  ?  " 

Jack  was  much  moved  by  her  solicitude  for  him — 
by  the  generous  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  she  was 
manifesting. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  do  nothing  rash,"  he  cried. 
"  Are  you  sure  they  will  not  lead  to  something 
worse  than  loss  of  home — to  compulsion  to  labor  ? " 

"  What  can  they?"  she  answered.  "The  fault 
I  committed  was  against  my  father — against  Dr. 
Sherman.  The  worst  he  can  do  will  be  to  drive 
me  from  him.  But  what  of  that,  if  you  are  to  lose 
your  liberty,  your  life  perhaps  !  " 

Jack  wondered  at  her  words.  It  began  to  dawn 
upon  him  that  Lucy  was  possessed  of  a  large,  gen- 
erous, self-sacrificing  nature.  How  was  he  to 
reconcile  this  with  the  killing  of  Renfrew  ?  The 
girl  puzzled  him — she  always  had. 

She  puzzled  some  one  else,  too,  who  was  striving 
all  he  could  to  listen. 

"  But  the  death  of  Renfrew,"  said  Jack,  giving 
verbal  expression  to  his  thoughts  unconsciously. 

"  I  know  I  was  very  wicked  there,"  she  replied. 
"  I  know  I  actually  felt  joy  when  I  heard  he  \\vis 
dead,  for  I  felt  that  I  should  escape  from  his  ex- 
tortions. That  was  my  wickedness.  But  the  joy 
was  short-lived.  1  began  to  feel  a  great  pity  for 


BEHIND    THE  BARS.  137 

him,  that  he  should  have  been  taken  off  in  his  sins, 
and  anger  against  the  person — " 

She  stopped  short  and  looked  at  Jack  appeal- 
ingly,  even  as  if  she  were  frightened.  Jack  was 
amazed.  Was  it  possible  that  this  girl  could  have 
been  guilty  of  the  deed  ?  She  went  on  : 

"  No,  no,  I  don't  mean  that.  I  mean  I  was 
sorry  for  him.  But  do  not  let  us  talk  of  what  I 
felt.  What  can  be  done  for  you  ?  What  can  I  do 
to  help  you  ?  Won't  the  telling  of  my  secret  help 
you  ? " 

She  looked  imploringly  at  him,  her  great  soft 
eyes  filled  with  compassion  and  her  face  suffused 
with  the  glow  of  her  ardor — of  her  desire  to  help 
him  even  at  the  expense  of  herself. 

The  great  tenderness  of  the  woman,  her  complete 
want  of  selfishness,  was  almost  too  much  for  Jack. 
His  heart  swelled,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  he  could 
repress  the  tears  striving  to  reach  his  eyes.  A  spirit 
of  emulation  rose,  and  he  thought  that  this  charm- 
ing girl  should  not  outdo  him  in  unselfishness. 

"  Please,  Miss  Sherman,  do  understand  this — I 
am  in  no  danger.  You  entirely  exaggerate  my 
situation.  Doubtless  it  is  true,  that  my  summons 
to  see  Captain  Lawton — that  the  knowledge  I  had 
a  remote  relation  to  the  death  of  Renfrew  by  call- 
ing on  him  the  day  of  the  murder,  may  be  traced 

to  our  conversation  in  the  B Hotel,  when  I 

delivered  the  package  to  you  ;  if  you  desire  to  go 
further,  perhaps  to  the  fact  of  your  call  upon  the 
Captain.  But,  admitting  all  this,  still  it  has  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  my  confinement  here." 

Lucy  was  astonished,  and  her  face  bore  an  ex- 
pression of  incredulity,  perhaps  also  of  disappoint- 
ment, for,  as  contradictory  as  it  may  appear,  she 
had  felt  a  joy  in  the  anticipation  of  making  a  sacri- 
fice for  the  one  who  had  served  her  so  well. 

"  It    is    true,    Miss    Sherman,    I   assure   you," 


I38        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

continued  Jack  ;  "  let  me  tell  you  how  it  came 
about." 

Briefly  reciting  his  visit  to  the  detective,  he  told 
the  episode  of  the  recognition  of  the  pistol  with 
great  particularity. 

Lucy  listened  eagerly.  The  color  in  her  cheeks, 
her  glistening  eyes  and  her  parted  lips  telling  vividly 
her  excitement.  She  breathed  rapidly,  even  turning 
pale,  as  Gordon  repeated  the  remark  of  the  detec- 
tive, "  You  are  either  the  murderer,  or  the  one 
witness  who  can  point  directly  to  the  person  who 
did  the  deed." 

"  Well,"  said  Gordon,  continuing,  "  I  am  not  the 
murderer,  and  I  take  it  if  any  one  is  foolish  enough 
to  make  that  charge  against  me  I  can  easily  dis- 
prove it.  As  to  the  pistol  I  recognized,  by  which 
it  is  said  Renfrew  was  killed,  it  points  to. — by 
Heaven  !  If  that  is  so,  how  can — " 

He  had  broken  off  in  his  speech,  because  of  a 
thought  which  had  overcome  and  filled  him  with 
gladness.  Why  had  he  not  thought  of  that  be- 
fore ?  If  his  fears  or  suspicions  were  correct,' Lucy 
could  not  have  killed  Renfrew — a  wild  joy  possessed 
him.  It  seemed  as  if  his  whole  being  was  flooded 
with  light.  He  stopped  and  looked  at  Lucy  beam- 
ing at  him  through  her  tears.  Of  course  she  was 
not  guilty  of  the  deed.  How  could  he  have  brought 
himself  to  suppose  she  was  ? 

Lucy  was  waiting  for  him  to  complete  her  joy. 
He  had  not  killed  Jacob — Cyril.  How  could  she 
ever  have  supposed  so  good  and  kind  a  man  could 
have  done  so  ? 

"  Oh,  please,  go  on  !  "  she  Cried,  her  eyes  swim- 
ming in  moisture,  and  the  love-light  glimmering 
through  her  tears.  "  You  did  not  kill  him,  and — ' 

Jack  bent  a  strange  look  upon  her.  What  did 
she  mean  ?  Could  she  have  thought  he  had  done 
it  ?  This  was,  indeed,  a  strange  complication.  He 


BEHIND    THE  BARS.  139 

Tvas  even  greatly  pleased  ;  no,  he  was  overjoyed  at 
the  mought  she  had  entertained  a  suspicion  he  was 
the  murderer,  for  it  was  confirmation  she  had  not 
done  it.  He  was  conscious  there  was  a  want  of 
proper  moral  spirit  in  all  this,  but  in  the  rush  of 
joy  and  excitement,  he  could  not  stop  to  analyze 
the  strange  situation. 

Lucy  was  waiting  for  him — hanging  on  his 
lips. 

"  I  recognized  the  pistol,"  he  continued,  "  as 
similar  to  one  possessed  by  a  woman  of  my  acquain- 
tance. If  it  had  been  any  other  pistol  than  the  one 
it  was,  I  should  not  have  given  a  second  thought 
to  it.  But  it  is  a  rare  one,  picked  up  abroad.  Yet 
I  can  not  bring  my  mind  to  believe  that  this  woman 
could  have  had  any  connection  with  Renfrew, — 
much  less  with  his  murder.  It  is  because  I  refused 
to  say  toward  whom  "my  suspicion  traveled,  that  I 
am  confined.  You  see  you  are  not  responsible  for 
my  being  here." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad,"  she  exclaimed  feebly.  The 
truth  was,  she  was  not  satisfied  that  he  was  making 
a-sacrifice  for  some  other  woman.  Then  she  added, 
as  if  unconscious  she  was  speaking  aloud,  "Any 
one  but  you  !  Any  one  but  you  !  " 

Jack  cast  upon  her  a'  strange  look.  She  was 
in  a  profound  study. 

He  said  in  a  low  tone  in  which  there  was  not  a 
particle  of  reproach  : 

"  Lucy." 

The  girl  started  at  the  word  and  tone,  and  looked 
him  full  in  the  face. 

"  Lucy,"  he  went  on,  with  a  world  of  tenderness 
in  his  voice.  "  I  think  you  must  have  believed  I 
committed  the  deed." 

The  blocd  rushed  into  her  face,  suffusing  her 
temples,  and  there  was  a  shy.  soft,  appealing  look 
in  her  eyes.  She  rose  and  would  have  walked  away 


1 40        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

from  him.  He  stood  up,  and  taking  her  hands, 
gently  detained  her. 

"  Is  it  so  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh !  "  trying  to  hide  her  confusion,  "  I  only 
feared  so.  I  feared  there  had  been  a  quarrel — a 
quarrel  over  my  letters.  And — if  it  were  so,  I  owed 
you  so  much." 

"  I  am  afraid  our  moral  senses  have  been  blunted 
of  late,"  said  Jack,  smiling.  "Well,  I  can  not 
confess  to  the  murder,  but  I  will  make  a  con- 
fession to  you  now,  that  I  have  always  intended 
to  make  when  the  proper  time  came.  There  can 
not  be,  there  never  will  be,  a  better  time  than 
now." 

Without  further  ado  he  told  her  all,  from  the 
beginning — from  the  first  time  he  saw  her  in  a 
restaurant,  when  he  made  her  the  subject  of  a  bet," 
until  he  had  delivered  the  package  to  her. 

Lucy  listened  with  astonishment,  annoyed, 
ashamed  at  times. 

When  he  had  finished  his  tale,  he  stood  holding 
her  hands;  she  trying  to  avoid  a  gaze  she  could 
not  but  feel  was  ardent  and  penetrating. 

"  Well  !  "  he  said  after  a  time.  "  You  say  noth- 
ing ?  Am  I  not  to  be  forgiven  ?  " 

"  Forgive  you,"  she  said,  her  rich  voice  trem- 
bling with  tenderness  and  agitation.  "  Forgive 
you  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Gordon,  what  have  I  to  forgive  ?  I 
can  give  you  thanks — thanks  from  the  bottom  of  a 
very  grateful  heart — a  heart  so  full  of  gratitude 
you  can  not  know.  To  think  you  were  so  good,  so 
noble  as  to  interfere  for  a  friendless,  tortured  crea- 
ture, whom  you  did  not  even  know.  It  was  noble  ; 
it  was  disinterested." 

"  Disinterested  !  "  said  Jack  with  a  sort  of  a  ca- 
ressing laugh.  "  I  am  afraid  not.  No,  Fm  afraid  I 
was  very  much  interested  from  the  moment  I  saw 
you  in  the  restaurant." 


BEHIND    THE  BARS.  141 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  cried  Lucy,  struggling  to  release 
her  hands. 

"  But  yes,  yes,"  said  Jack,  retaining  them.  "  It 
must  out,  Lucy.  I  have  tried  to  deny  it  to  my- 
self. But  there  never  has  been  a  time  when  your 
voice  had  not  the  power  to  thrill  me  to  the  center. 
I  have  struggled  against  it,  I  have  tried  to  smother 
my  passion,  I  know  it  now,  but  here  it  is  blazing 
furiously,  consuming  me.  Oh,  Lucy,  why  should  I 
deny  I  love  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't,  please,  please  don't.  You  do  not 
know." 

"I  know  enough.  I  know  I  love  you.  I  know 
it  is  a  singular  place  to  woo  in.  And  I  know  when 
a  young  woman  comes  with  love  and  tenderness  in 
her  eyes,  her  voice  vibrating  with  sympathy  and 
anxiety  for  a  young  man  in  trouble,  that  young 
man  were  worse  than  a  coward,  if  he  did  not  then 
try  to  seize  the  happiness  within  his  reach." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Gordon — ' 

"  Which  his  name  is  Jack." 

"  You  do  not  know.  How  can  you  think  of  giv- 
ing your  love  to  one  who  has  acknowledged  to  you 
she  has  committed  a  crime  and  carries  it  as  a  tor- 
turing secret  ?" 

"  Fault  was  what  I  believe  you  called  it." 

"  Fault  when  committed — a  crime  now  in  its 
continuance." 

"  Whatever  it  was,  dear  Lucy,  it  has,  I  am  sure, 
long  since  been  repented.  Whatever  it  is  I  now 
condone." 

Lucy  looked  up  at  him,  her  face  glorified,  her 
eyes  swimming  in  tears.  She  had  committed  a 
crime,  she  had  repented, — now  she  was  to  make 
expiation. 

"  No,  Mr.  Gordon,  I  shall  not  give  you  the  burden 
of  that  crime.  The  consequences  of  it  I  must  bear 
alone.  I  will  not  mar  your  life  as  I  have  marred 


142        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

my  own.  I  will  not  permit  you  to  take  a  wite 
whom  you  must  despise  if  you  know  the  truth, 
whom  you  must  always  distrust  if  she  share  not  that 
secret  with  you.  Later  on  you  will  recognize  this, 
and  then  you  will  know  that  in  part  at  least  I  have 
repaid  you  for  the  great  service  you  have  done 
me — for  what  you  have  suffered  for  me.  I  shall 
not  be  silly  and  fail  to  tell  you  that  I  do  not  appre- 
ciate the  tender  of  your  noble  love.  Do  not  think 
I  do  not  know  I  am  making  a  sacrifice.  How 
much  I  desire  your  esteem  you  may  learn  when  I 
humiliate  myself  by  telling  you,  and  begging  you 
to  believe,  that  this  fault,  this  crime  does  not  affect 
my  maiden  purity." 

Jack  was  much  affected  by  her  earnestness. 

"  I  care  not  what  it  is,"  he  cried.  "  I  love  you 
and  I  know  that  you  love  me.  Fate  has  drawn  us 
together,  and  we  are  not  to  be  separated.  A  power 
stronger  than  ourselves  has  done  this.  Why  strug- 
gle against  it  ?  As  I  stand  here  pleading  as  for  my 
life,  I  know  from  the  time  I  first  saw  you  I  !oved  you." 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  before  she  was  aware 
what  he  was  about  to  do.  She  struggled  for  a 
moment,  but  the  powerful  arms  infolding  her  were 
too  strong,  arid  she  yielded,  not  so  much  after  all  to 
his  strength  as  to  her  passion. 

It  was  but  for  a  moment,  however.  With  an 
effort  she  released  herself. 

"  No,  no,"  she  cried,  "  it  will  not  do.  I  am 
right.  You  are  wrong." 

"  Let  me  be  the  judge,"  urged  Jack.  "  That  one 
embrace,  yielding  as  you  did  only  for  a  moment, 
tells  me  louder  than  words  that  my  love  is  returned. 
Tell  me  the  secret,  and  let  me  be  the  judge  of 
my  own  fate." 

She  looked  up  at  him  shyly,  and  saw  a  strong, 
glowing,  deeply  earnest  face  bending  over  her — a 
face  to  be  trusted  with  her  life. 


BEHIND    THE  BARS.  143 

"  It  shall  be  so,"  she  said.  "  When  you  are  free 
come  to  me  and  I  will  tell  you  all.  I  will  tell  you, 
and  you  will  then  leave  me  to  my  misery,  the  world 
darker  than  before." 

"  I  am  content,"  replied  Jack,  and  he  bent  over 
her  and  impressed  a  warm  kiss  upon  her  forehead. 

She  went  away  trembling  with  excitement  and 
happiness.  -  Jack  walked  to  his  room  as  if  treading 
on  air. 

Shortly  after  she  drove  away,  the  Captain  issued 
from  the  jail. 

"  Well,  well,  well  !  "  he  said  as  he  walked  away. 
"  That  was  an  experience.  These  two  people  have 
had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  But  who  is  the  woman 
Gordon  suspects  ?  It  will  be  hard  to  make  him  tell, 
for  he  is  not  common  stuff." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ADMIRABLE    OBSTINACY. 

/"CORDON  was  not  left  long  to  dwell  upon  the 
\j"  scene  through  which  he  had  just  passed, 
nor  to  give  much  thought  to  the  fault  Lucy 
regarded  as  an  insuperable  bar  to  their  union.  As 
a  matter  of  fact  he  gave  the  latter  little  weight, 
believing  it  to  be  some  venial  offense  which  she,  in 
her  innocence,  had  exaggerated  into  a  great  fault. 
The  important  thing  was  that  he  loved  this  beauti- 
ful creature  and  she  had  acknowledged  her  love  in 
return. 

The  announcement  of  other  visitors  caused  him 
to  put  aside  his  pleasing  thoughts  and  prepare  to 
welcome  them.  To  his  great  surprise  he  found 
them  to  be  his  friends  "Dizzy"  Lowell  and  his 
sister,  Miss  Appleby,  and  Will  Robb. 

These  young  people  made  a  great  outcry  as  they 
entered,  and  Jack,  who  was  inclined  to  believe 
curiosity  had  led  them  to  the  jail,  was  not  over 
well  pleased. 

"What  puzzles  me,"  said  Jack,  repressing  his 
displeasure,  "  is  how  you  came  to  know  I  was  here 
so  quickly." 

"  Easily  explained,"  replied  Will  Robb.  "  We 
were  on  our  way  to  a  matinee,  and  meeting  your 
man  Crimmins  nearly  distracted,  we  got  it  out  of 
him  and  so  came  to  you  instead,  to  see  if  we  could 
do  anything." 

"  Ah,  that  explains  it,"  said  Jack,  "  I  wish  Crim- 
mins had  been  as  industrious  in  getting  my  clothes 
144 


ADMIRABLE   OBSTINACY.  145 

here  as  he  has  been  in  spreading  the  news  of  my 
being  locked  up." 

"  \Vhy,"  exclaimed  Miss  Appleby,  "  are  you 
going  to  stay  here  long  ?  " 

"  The  period  of  my  stay  is  somewhat  indefinite. 
I  don't  know.  I  am  here,  however." 

"  But  what  is  the  meaning  of  it  all  ?  "  said  Mollie 
Lowell,  solicitude  plainly  apparent  on  her  pretty 
face. 

"  Did  you  ever  know,  Mollie,"  said  Jack,  "  how 
dangerous  it  was  to  be  suspected  of  being  too  well 
informed  ? " 

"No." 

"  It  is  ;  and  you  see  before  you  an  evidence  of 
the  truth  of  the  remark." 

"  But  I  don't  understand." 

"  Then  I'll  enlighten  you.  I  made  a  call  on  the 
detective  who  has  charge  of  ferreting  out  the 
murderer  of  Renfrew  the  actor,  this  morning,  and 
while  talking  about  it  he  showed  me  an  article 
which  is  closely  connected  with  the  murder  and  by 
the  means  of  which  he  expects  to  trace  the  doer  of 
the  deed.  This  article  I  recognized  at  once,  and 
the  detective,  perceiving  the  recognition,  demanded 
to  know  to  whom  it  belonged.  Not  knowing  all 
the  circumstances  I  refused  to  tell.  Consequently 
I  am  here  as  an  important  witness — in  re  Renfrew 
case — I  believe  that  is  the  way  the  lawyers  put  it." 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  Miss  Appleby  in  profound  dis- 
gust. "  Why  didn't  you  tell  and  end  it  ?  " 

"  What  ?  and  involve  a  lady  of  high  degree  in  a 
scandal?  That  wouldn't  have  been  nice,  Lou."  ' 

"  I  would,"  said  Mollie.  "  I  wouldn't  be  locked 
up  in  jail  for  any  trumpery  woman." 

"  My  dear  Mollie,"  said  Jack,  laughing,  "  I 
haven't  known  }'ou  all  your  life  without  learning 
that  that  is  just  what  you  would  do  for  a  friend, 
Yes,  go  to  jail  and  stay  there  too," 


146        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Pooh  !  No,  I  wouldn't,"  replied  that'young  lady, 
glancing  about  the  room.  "  Not  that  this  looks  to 
me  as  I  supposed  a  jail  did.  I  thought  it  was  all 
stone  walls  and  chains  and  bars.  This  appears  like 
a  third-rate  hotel  at  a  watering-place.  You  don't 
seem  to  be  much  frightened,  Jack'?  " 

"  No,  there  is  nothing  to  be  frightened  about. 
But  I  am  angry  all  the  way  through." 

"  You  can't  stay  here,  Jack,"  said  Miss  Appleby. 
u  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  am  here,"  said  Jack.  "  But,"  and  a 
hard,  stern  look  came  upon  his  face  as  he  con- 
tinued, "this  dance  isn't  over  yet.  My  turn  will 
come  some  time,  and  then  I'll  find  out  whether  a 
man  can  be  locked  up  at  the  pleasure  of  anybody 
who  wears  brass  buttons." 

"  You  ought  to  get  a  lawyer,"  said  Will  Robb. 

"  I  don't  want  one,"  replied  Jack  shortly.  "  Let 
them  go  on.  There'll  be  fight  enough  before  all 
is  over,  Will.  Let  me  alone  for  that." 

"  Are  you  sure  about  that  article  ? "  asked 
Mollie  Lowell. 

"  Quite.     There  can  be  no  mistake  about  it." 

"I'd  tell  then,  for  it  must  be  an  awful  bore  to 
stay  here." 

"  Which  advice  I  decline  with  thanks.  After 
the  way  they  have  tried  to  force  me,  I'd  remain 
here  for  the  rest  of  my  life  before  I'd  tell." 

"  I  say,  Jack,"  said   Dizzy,  who  had  been   pro- 
foundly thinking  while  the  others  were  chattering. 
"  You  are  here  because  you  won't  speak  ?  " 
'  "  Yes." 

"  And  you  are  going  to  stay  here  rather  than 
tell?" 

"  Precisely." 

"  And  it's  because  you  don't  want  a  lady's  name 
made  public  ? " 

"Yes." 


ADMIRABLE   OBSTINACY.  147 

"  And  that  is  because  you  doubt  whether  she 
did  for  Renfrew  ?  " 

"  You  have  the  idea  exactly." 

"  Well,  I  think  you  are  going  about  it  the  right 
way  to  drag  her  name  into  public  talk." 

"  How,  my  sapient  youth  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  can't  be  long  before  those  paper  fel- 
lows will  get  on  to  your  confinement  here.  Then 
they'll  go  poking  around  until  they  find  out  what 
the  article  is,  describe  it,  and  some  fellow  will  drop 
to  it  and  give  it  away,  and  then  the  whole  thing'll 
be  out.  Better  get  out  of  this,  and  you  will  be  able 
to  do  something  outside." 

"  Dizzy  "  had  presented  a  view  of  the  matter 
Jack  had  not  taken. 

Mollie,  who  had  been  listening,  got  up  and  going 
to  him  kissed  him,  saying  : 

"  Why,  '  Dizzy,'  you're  very  wise.  Never  again 
shall  I  call  you  dull." 

"  Tell  you  what,"  said  "  Dizzy,"  struggling  to  free 
himself  from  his  sister's  caress,  "  Will,  you  take 
the  girls  home  and  I'll  go  after  Mr.  Van  Huyn. 
He's  a  friend  of  ours,  and  has  got  a  big  head." 

To  this  Jack,  by  making  no  reply,  gave  acquies- 
cence. And  the  rest,  after  many  expressions  of 
good  will,  went  off. 

"  Dizzy "  soon  returned  with  Mr.  Van  Huyn, 
and  that  lawyer  listened  attentively  to  Jack's 
recital  of  the  events  of  the  day. 

"  There  are  some  points  you  have  not  made 
clear,"  said  Mr.  Van  Huyn,  after  Jack  had  finished, 
"  and  I  must  ask  you  some  questions." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Jack,  "  but  I  warn  you  there 
are  some  you  may  ask  which  I  will  not  answer." 

The  lawyer  bent  a  suspicious  glance  upon  Jack, 
as  he  remarked  : 

"  A  client  should  conceal  nothing  from  his  law- 
yer, if  he  expects  to  have  intelligent  assistance." 


I4§        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Perhaps.  But  go  on  with  your  questions,  Mr. 
Van  Huvn.  Let  us  see  how  we  come  out." 

The  lawyer  evidently  was  not  well  pleased  with 
the  manner  in  which  Jack  answered  him.  After  a 
moment's  thought  he  said  : 

"  What  acquaintance  had  you  with  Renfrew  prior 
to  your  call  upon  him  ?  " 

'  None  whatever." 

'  Your  call  upon  him  was  then  one  of  business  ? " 

'  Entirely  so.     The  business  of  another  person." 

'  And  that  business  was  in  behalf  of — 

'That  is  a  question  I  can  not  answer,"  replied 
Jack  firmly. 
•    '  Nor  one  as  to  the  nature  of  the  business  ?  " 

'  No,  except  this  far.  It  was  to  demand  the 
return  of  letters  written  by  the  one  on  whose  behalf 
I  went  to  see  Renfrew,  who  was  making  bad  use  of 
them." 

"  Um.  What  time  in  the  day  did  you  call  upon 
Renfrew  ? " 

"  About  three  o'clock.  But,  pardon  me,  Mr.  Van 
Huyn,  this  line  of  questioning  is  useless,  if  you  will 
permit  me  to  say  so.  The  police  authorities  do 
not  connect  me,  or  the  person  in  whose  behalf  I 
went,  with  the  murder.  That  my  calling  upon  that 
particular  day  was  merely  coincidental  they  are 
abundantly  satisfied." 

"  Why  then  did  they  send  for  you  ? "  asked  the 
lawyer  sharply,  considerably  annoyed  by  the  way 
in  which  Jack  checked  him. 

"  Because,  having  difficulty  in  learning  anything 
about  Renfrew's  habits  of  life  and  friends — sur- 
roundings— they  erroneously  concluded,  taking  my 
call  upon  him  as  evidence  of  familiarity  with  him, 
I  might  tell  them.  That  I  could  tell  them  nothing 
Captain  Lawton  soon  became  convinced.  The 
event  which  led  to  my  confinement  here  occurred 
subsequently." 


ADMIRABLE    OBSTINACY.  149 

"  The  recognition  of  the  pistol  ?  " 

"  Yes.  That  is  the  beginning.  All  that  goes 
before  only  leads  up  to  my  being  in  the  Captain's 
office  where  I  could  see  and  recognize  the  pistol, 
and  has  no  bearing  upon  my  being  here  except  in 
that  way." 

"  I  see.     You  refused  to  tell  who  it  belonged  to." 

"  Yes.     I  refused  to  say  anything." 

"  The  detective  was  right  in  demanding  infor- 
mation. Why  did  not  you  tell  him  ?  " 

"  Because  I  would  not  blindly  involve  a  person 
for  whom  I  had  a  high  respect  in  an  unpleasant 
publicity.  Let  me  submit  a  case,"  said  Jack,  rising 
and  pacing  up  and  down  the  room.  "  Suppose  you 
knew  a  lady  whose  standing  in  society  was  high, 
whose  life  was  so  correct  as  to  be  a  model  for  all 
wives,  who  enjoyed  the  esteem  of  every  one  who 
was  acquainted  with  her,  whose  daily  walk  and  life 
was  as  irreproachable  as  that  of  the  lady  who 
honors  you  by  bearing  your  name," — the  lawyer 
bowed  in  response  to  these  words,  as  if  thanking 
Jack.  "  Suppose,  I  say,  you  knew  such  a  lady,  and 
knew  that  several  years  previous  she  had  possessed 
a  pistol  that  had  been  used  subsequently  to  kill  a 
man.  Would  you  immediately  cry  out  that  she  had 
committed  the  murder?" 

"  No.  But  would  such  a  charge  follow  in  this 
case  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know  that  it  would.  But  I  think  it 
quite  likely.  But  what  unquestionably  would  occur 
would  be  that  her  name  would  be  brought  into 
connection  with  a  scandalous  case,  for  such  I 
assure  you  it  will  turn  out  to  be,  Mr.  Van  Huyn, 
when  all  sorts  of  vulgar  peo'ple  would  indulge  in 
coarse  speculations  as  to  her  probable  connection 
with  this  fellow  Renfrew." 

"  I  presume  that  is  so." 

"  What  do  I  know  about  it  that  I  should  give 


15°        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

tongue  to  it  ?"  continued  Jack  warmly.  "  I  only 
know  that  seven  years  ago — say  six — she  owned 
this  pistol  and  another  just  like  it.  She  may  have 
lost  them,  sold  them,  given  them  away.  They  may 
have  been  stolen  from  her.  Now  without  having 
an  opportunity  to  learn  anything  about  her  posses- 
sion of  them,  I  am  expected,  simply  because  a  beast 
of  a  detective  demands  to  know,  to  blurt  out  the 
name  of  a  high-bred,  refined  woman,  whose  life  is 
of  the  highest,  and  surround  her  name  with  a  cloud 
of  suspicion — a  woman  who  has  shown  me  no  end 
of  kindness,  who  has  welcomed  me  to  her  home  and 
at  her  board,  who  has  been  my  consistent  friend  from 
boyhood.  It  may  be  law  and  justice,  as  lawyers  and 
courts  see  it,  but  I'll  be  d — d  if  I  will.  I  don't  care 
what  the  consequences  may  be.  I  may  be  a  party 
to  the  crime  then,  but  I'll  be  a  man  of  honor  and  a 
gentleman.  I  won't  talk,  and  all  the  detectives,  and 
all  the  judges,  and  all  the  courts,  and  all  the  jails 
can't  make  me." 

"  Good  !  "  shouted  "  Dizzy,"  springing  across 
the  room  at  a  bound  and  grasping  Jack's  hand. 
"  You're  a  trump — you're  a  daisy.  I'll  back  you 
sixty  to  one."  With  his  pink  cheeks  pinker  than 
ever,  he  retired  to  his  chair,  and  thrusting  the 
handle  of  his  cane  in  his  mouth,  he  turned  to  listen 
to  what  the  lawyer  would  say  in  response. 

"  Then  I  understand  that,  until  you  have  a  better 
basis  of  suspicion  than  is  involved  in  the  mere 
recognition  of  the  pistol,  you  refuse  to  speak?" 

"Certainly,  until  I  know  more  than  I  do  at  pres- 
ent." 

"  Such  sacrifice  of  self  is  not  usual,  Mr.  Gordon," 
said  the  lawyer,  in  w*hose  altered  tones  there  was 
evidence  of  the  admiration  he  felt  for  the  young 
man's  spirit.  "  I  think  the  detective  has  traveled 
a  little  beyond  his  power,  considered  from  a  strictly 
legal  point.  It  is,  however,  customary  to  arrest  an 


ADMIRABLE    OBSTINACY.  151 

important  witness  and  hold  him,  especially  if  he  is 
thought  to  be  an  unwilling  one,  or  inclined  to  the 
other  side.  The  ease  with  which  an  arrest  can  be 
accomplished  under  due  process  of  law,  and  that  in 
ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  public  opinion 
will  justify  the  act,  has  caused  the  authorities  to 
ignore  the  steps  necessary  to  a  strictly  legal  con- 
finement. However,  it  seems  to  me  the  course  to 
follow,  at  first,  is  for  me  to  see  the  detective  and 
protest  against  your  confinement.  This  may  be 
sufficient  to  secure  your  release.  After  that  we 
will  determine  whether  it  is  necessary  to  get  out  a 
writ  of  habeas  corpus.  I'll  go  at  once." 

He  went  off,  leaving  "  Dizzy "  behind  with 
Jack. 

"  Say,  old  man,"  cried  "  Dizzy,"  as  soon  as  the 
door  was  closed  behind  the  lawyer.  "  You're  a 
high-stepping,  rangy  colt,  now  I  tell  you.  Never 
you  mind,  we'll  pull  you  through.  I'll  make  a 
book  against  all  odds  on  that.  Say,  you  know  that 
colt — Leamington  stock — I  bought  from  Cap. 
Connor,  made  1.48^  this  morning  in  practice, 
Jimmie  up,  Little  Billet  leading,  and  the  General 
urging.  I'll  give  him  to  you  when  you  get  out  of 
this." 

"  Dizzy  "  had  gone  to  the  extreme  in  testifying 
his  admiration  for  Jack's  conduct,  all  of  which 
Jack  appreciated,  and  so,  there  being  nothing  fur- 
ther to  say  upon  the  subject,  they  fell  to  talking  of 
horses.  Thus  they  were  engaged  when  Mr.  Van 
Huyn  returned, — not  alone,  however,  for  he  was 
accompanied  by  both  Captain  Lawton  and  the  In- 
spector. 

"  Mr.  Gordon,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  I  have  talked 
with  these  gentlemen,  and  have  convinced  them 
that  no  necessity  exists  for  locking  you  up  ;  that 
you  have  no  intention  of  leaving  the  city,  and  will 
give  your  word  to  that  effect." 


15 2        JACK  CORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  I'll  give  il  to  you,  Mr.  Van  Huyn,"  said  Jack 
stiffly. 

The  Ca'ptain  attempted  to  speak,  but  the  Inspector 
checked  him,  saying  : 

"  That  will  be  entirely  sufficient  on  that  head, 
Mr.  Van  Huyn." 

"  It  is,  however,  required  of  you,"  continued  the 
lawyer,  "  that  you  will  satisfy  yourself  as  to  the 
possession  of  the  pistol,  and  if  it  has  within  three 
months  passed  out  of  the  hands  of  the  lady  who 
owned  it  when  you  last  knew  anything  of  it,  you 
will  immediately  inform  the  Captain,  and  tell  him,  if 
you  can,  into  whose  possession  it  went.  If  not, 
then  the  name  of  the  lady  who  owned  it,  whose 
name  you  now  refuse  to  give." 

"  I'll  make  no  such  pledge  to  you,  nor  to  any 
one  else,"  answered  Jack  firmly. 

"  Right  you  are,  my  daisy  !  "  cried  "  Dizzy," 
very  pink. 

The  Inspector  turned  upon  that  young  man  with 
a  scowl,  but  its  effect  was  not  startling,  since 
"Dizzy"  winked  at  him,  as  if  he  thought  the  In- 
spector approved  Jack's  obstinacy. 

"  No,  Mr.  Van  Huyn,"  said  Jack,  ignoring  the 
presence  of  the  two  officials.  "  If  I  go  from  here 
I  go  free  and  unbound  by  promise  or  pledge.  I 
will  not  leave  the  city,  but  that  is  all  I  will  pledge." 

"  Dizzy  "  performed  a  tattoo  with  the  end  of  his 
cane  upon  the  floor  by  way  of  applause. 

Mr.  Van  Huyn  and  the  two  detectives  retired 
into  a  corner  for  consultation,  which  was  for  a 
time  very  earnest.  It  had  continued  for  some 
minutes,  when  Mr.  Van  Huyn  turned  to  Jack  with 
an  air  of  satisfaction. 

"  These  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "do  not  press  the 
requirement.  Therefore,  you  are  free  to  go  ;  but  I 
desire  you  to  fully  understand  that  I  have  given 
my  personal  word  that  you  will  pot  leave  the 


ADMIRABLE   OBSTINACY.  153 

city,  and  you  will  not  cause  these  gentlemen  any 
trouble  because  of  your  confinement  here." 

Jack  bit  his  lips  and  hesitated.  "  Dizzy  "  took 
his  cane  from  his  mouth  and  looked  anxiously  at 
Jack. 

"  Since  you  have  given  your  word,  Mr.  Van 
Huyn,"  replied  Jack,  "  I'll  stand  by  it.  But  such 
was  not  my  intention." 

"  Dizzy  "  applauded  again  with  the  end  of  his 
cane. 

"  Then,"  said   the   Inspector,  "  you   are  free  to 

go-" 

The  detectives  departed  ;  in  a  short  time  the 
others  followed,  Jack  having  been  delayed  by  the 
ceremonies  of  release. 

"  Dizzy  "  was  overjoyed  at  the  result,  and  again 
and  again  cried  out  : 

"See,  we  did  pull  you  through." 

He  was  so  elated  over  Jack's  admirable  resolute- 
ness in  refusing  to  give  expression  to  his  suspicions, 
that  he  insisted  en  giving  a  dinner  at  the  Hoffman 
House  to  all  who  had  assisted  in  "pulling  Jack 
through." 

While  Mr.  Van  Huyn,who  was  the  principal  "pull- 
er," could  not  be  persuaded  to  participate  in  the 
feast,  which  "Dizzy"  promised  should  be  "bang 
up,"  with  the  best  of  wines,  Jack  could  not  well  es- 
cape, though  he  would  have  been  better  pleased  to 
have  spent  a  part  of  the  evening  with  Lucy. 

All  that  was  permitted  him  was  a  brief  note  to 
her,  informing  her  of  his  release  and  his  intention 
to  call  upon  her  the  following  day.  He  closed  his 
eventful  day  merrily  at  the  table,  around  which 
were  gathered  his  four  staunch  friends,  Miss  Ap- 
pleby,  Will  Robb,  Mollie  Lowell  and  her  brother. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

REMINISCENCES    WITH    A    PURPOSE. 

IT  was  an  hour  at  which  most  men  lunched  that 
Jack  breakfasted  on  the  morning  following  the 

evening  on  which  "  Dizzy  "  gave  what  he  was 
pleased  to  term  his  "  feed  "  in  honor  of  his  friend's 
release. 

Although  it  was  early  for  a  call,  still,  relying 
upon  his  intimate  footing  in  the  house,  he  deter- 
mined as  soon  as  he  finished  his  meal  to  visit  Mrs. 
Jamieson.  Half  an  hour  later  found  him  in  her 
parlors.  The  lady  soon  came  to  him,  and  in  a 
ravishing  demi-toilette  and  with  an  air  of  anxious 
solicitude. 

"  Gracious,  Jack  !  "  she  said  on-  seeing  him,  "  I 
hope  nothing  serious  has  occurred  again.  Come 
into  the  library,  where  we  will  not  be  interrupted 
by  callers,  if  there  should  be  any." 

Leading  the  way,  she  took  him  into  the  apart- 
ment named  and  said  : 

"  Make  yourself  as  comfortable  as  you  can.  How 
do  you  feel  ?  Are  you  all  broken  up  with  your  ex- 
perience ?  Were  you  much  frightened  ?  " 

"  What  are  you  referring  to  ?  "  asked  Jack  in 
return,  not  a  little  astonished  by  her  words. 

"  Why,  about  that  horrible  mistake  of  arresting 
you  as  the  murderer  of  Renfrew." 

Jack  laughed  aloud. 

"  It  is  pleasant  to  hear  that.  Where  did  you 
learn  that  interesting  news  ?" 

"Why,  Mrs.  Van   Huyn  was  here  this  morning 

i54 


REMINISCENCES    WITH  A    PURPOSE.      155 

telling  me  about  it,  and  very  loud  in  her  praises  of 
your  manliness.  Her  husband  told  her  about  it." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  her  version,"  said  Jack, 
partly  amused  and  partly  vexed. 

"  Isn't  it  true  ?  She  said  that  those  horrid  de- 
tectives got  it  into  their  stupid  heads  that  you  com- 
mitted the  murder  and  arrested  you  ;  that  after 
they  talked  with  you  they  found  out  you  didn't,  but 
that  you  knew  who  did  but  wouldn't  tell,  and 
then  they  put  you  in  jail." 

"  I  am  afraid  Mrs.  Van  Huyn  has  not  properly 
quoted  her  husband,  and  I  don't  think  there  would 
have  been  anything  particularly  manly  in  my  refus- 
ing to  tell  the  name  of  the  murderer  if  I  had  known 
it.  No,  I  was,  not  suspected  of  the  murder  ;  and  I 
was  confined  because,  having  knowledge  of  a  mat- 
ter connected  with  it,  I  refused  to  speak,  since  it 
would  have  involved  the  name  of  a  friend  in  a 
scandal.  That's  all." 

"  That  is  very  different,"  said  the  little  lady. 
"  How  does  it  feel  to  be  in  jail  ?  " — with  a  shudder. 

Jack  laughed  a  low,  happy  laugh. 

"  I  never  was  so  happy  anywhere.  I  give  you 
my  word,  Mrs.  Jamieson,  I  would  not  have  missed 
going  to  that  jail,  had  I  known  what  was  to  hap- 
pen, for  all  things  the  future  might  promise  me." 

Mrs.  Jamieson  looked  at  him  curiously  and 
waited  for  him  to  go  on,  while  a  happy  smile  played 
about  Jack's  lips.  An  intuition  warned  the  lady 
that  she  ought  not  to  push  inquiries. 

"  You  always  were  a  queer  creature,  Jack,"  she 
said.  "  The  idea  of  being  happy  in  jail.  I  am 
glad  it  was  no  worse.  I  was  much  frightened  for 
you." 

The  conversation  now  drifted  into  other  chan- 
nels, until  Jack,  seizing  a  favorable  opportunity, 
turned  it  in  the  direction  of  the  object  of  his  call. 

"  Do    you    recollect    the   winter,"  he  inquired, 


156        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  I  spent  with  you  and  Mr.  Jamieson  in.  the  south 
of  Europe  ?  " 

"  Shall  I  ever  forget  it,  Jack  ?  I  go  back  to  it 
again  and  again.  What  perfectly  happy  days  they 
were  !  Ah,  me  !  how  the  time  flies.  It  is  seven 
years  ago.  What  a  nice  boy  you  were  in  those, 
days  !  Just  a  fresh,  enthusiastic  boy,  without  any 
affectations." 

"  Oh,  I  was  fresh  enough,  I'll  warrant,"  laughed 
Jack.  "A  mere  lad — only  twenty." 

"  With  your  pockets  full  of  money  your  poor 
old  father  had  lavished  on  you.  Money  you  wanted 
to  spend  on  every  conceivable  thing  you  saw. 
Dear,  dear  !  The  worry  you  were  to  Walter  and 
myself  !  I  had  to  take'your  money  from  you  every 
time  you  went  out  alone." 

"  Yes,  I  recollect  you  kept  me  on  short  com- 
mons." 

"  Then  your  faculty  for  falling  in  love.  How 
many  times  did  I  have  to  rush  in  and  rescue  you  ? 
I  was  talking  to  Walter  only  a  day  or  two  ago 
about  it." 

"  You  have  not  forgotten  that  trip  to  the  moun- 
tains when  there  were  rumors  of  brigands,  nor  how 
frightened  you  were  about  them  ?  " 

"  Don't  recall  my  silliness.  Walter  teases  me 
about  it  to  this  day." 

"  Nor  the  armament  1  purchased  with  which  to 
defend  ourselves." 

The  little  lady  burst  into  a  peal  of  merriment. 

"  Shall  I  ever  forget  the  comical  sight  you  pre- 
sented that  evening  in  Florence,  when  you  came  in 
loaded  down — " 

"With  loaded  things,  eh?"  interrupted  Jack. 
"  Do  you  remember  that  brace  of  pistols  with  cu- 
riously carved  ivory  handles  I  bought  for  you  ?  " 

"  No,  nor  how  you  wanted  to  take  me  into  the 
palace  garden  to  teach  me  how  to  shoot  them  off." 


REMINISCENCES    WITH  A    PURPOSE.      15 7 

"  Have  you  got  them  yet ?  "  inquired  Jack,  care- 
lessly. 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Jamieson  entered  the  room 
and  greeted  Jack  warmly. 

"  There  is  the  culprit,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Jamie- 
son.  "  Call  him  to  account." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  her  husband. 

"  Jack  was  asking  if  I  still  had  those  quaint  pis- 
tols with  curiously  carved  ivory  handles  he  bought 
for  me  in  Florence.  I  refer  him  to  you  for  ex- 
planation." 

"  Jack,"  said  that  gentleman,  with  mock  serious- 
ness, "  you  have  touched  upon  a  sore  spot.  My 
life  for  two  years  has  been  made  miserable,  my 

home  a "  pointing  downward — "  you  know,  all 

on  account  of  those  useless  toys  you  gave  to  the 
partner  of  my  woes.  If  I  had  taken  the  two  chil- 
dren who  call  her  mother  and  lost  them  somewhere 
in  the  wilds  of  New  Jersey,  I  would  not  have  heard 
so  much  about  it  as  I  have  about  the  loss  of  those 
miserable  pistols." 

"  That  is  not  giving  Jack  the  information  he 
asks,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  contemptuous  toss  of 
her  head.  "  Now  listen,  Jack.  About  two  years 
ago  I  loaned  them,  with  some  other  rare  and 
curious  things,  to  a  lady  who  was  giving  a  loan 
exhibition  in  aid  of  some  charity." 

"  You  see,"  interrupted  Mr.  Jamieson,  "  the 
old  story.  The  original  sin  was  committed  by  the 
woman.  Now  if  she — " 

"Be  quiet,  and  don't  interrupt,"  demanded  the 
imperative  little  dame,  stamping  a  diminutive  foot 
upon  the  floor.  "  She  took  them,  promising  the 
best  of  care  of  them.  So  proud  of  them  was  I,  so 
highly  did  I  value  them,  not  alone  for  their  asso- 
ciation, but  also  for  their  beauty  and  rarity,  that  on 
the  night  the  exhibition  closed,  I  sent  Walter  after 
them  and  the  other  things." 


IS8        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  Yes,  it  cost  me  a  dollar  to  get  in  ten  minutes 
before  the  door  closed,"  said  Mr.  Jamieson  mourn- 
fully. "  I  have  lamented  that  dollar  ever  since." 

"  When  he  came  back  I  told  him  to  lay  the  things 
down  in  this  room  on  the  table  in  the  corner.  Sev- 
eral days  after,  when  I  came  to  look  them  over  to 
restore  them  to  their  proper  places,  the  pistols 
were  not  to  be  found.  Asking  him  where  they 
were,  and  other  things  also  missing,  what,  suppose 
you,  was  his  answer  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,"  replied  Jack,  mani- 
festing an  interest  in  the  recital  hardly  justified. 

"  He  did  not  know.  He  had  loaned  them,  the 
night  he  brought  the  other  things  home,  to  some 
one,  but  who,  he  couldn't  recollect.  Somebody 
who  was  going  to  have  tableaux,  or  private  theat- 
ricals." 

"Now,  Jack,"  said  her  husband,  "you  have  the 
story  of  an  event  which  has  caused  many  heart- 
aches in  this  house.  If  you  should  hear,  one  morn- 
ing, that  in  a  rash  moment  I  had  ended  my  life, 
you  will  know  the  reason." 

"  Mr.  Jamieson,"  said  Jack,  so  gravely  as  to  ex- 
cite the  attention  of  the  others,  "  will  you  answer 
a  question  seriously?  Much  depends  upon  it,  I 
assure  you." 

They  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  Do  you  indeed  not  recollect  to  whom  you  gave 
those  pistols  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  indeed.  Mrs.  Jamieson  does  not  tell 
you  all.  I  loaned  a  number  of  articles  that  even- 
ing. To  whom  the  pistols  were  given  I  could  never 
recollect.  The  other  articles  were  all  returned  in 
good  time.  The  pistols  never.  It  was  several 
weeks  after  before  my  wife  spoke  of  missing  them, 
and  though  I  remembered  loaning  them,  I  could  not 
tell  to  whom.  Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  know,"  said  Jack,  after 


REMINISCENCES    WITH  A    PURPOSE.      159 

a  moment's  reflection.  "  Renfrew,  the  actor,  was 
killed  with  one  of  those  pistols." 

Both  were  greatly  shocked. 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Jamie- 
son,  after  he  had  recovered  from  his  astonish- 
ment. 

"  I  recognized  it  when  I  saw  it  in  the  hands  of  the 
detective." 

"  Was  this  the  reason — was  it  because  you  re- 
fused to  tell  who  you  thought  it  belonged  to,  that 
you  were  locked  up?"  asked  Mrs.  Jamieson. 

"  Oh,  that  is  an  old  story  now,"  said  Jack  un- 
easily. 

The  lady  rose  from  her  chair,  and,  taking  Jack's 
hand,  said  : 

"  It  was  very  noble  of  you,  Jack.  I  appreciate 
it.  You  have  done  me  a  service  1  shall  never  for- 
get. You  have  saved  me  from  a  great  deal  of  ugly 
talk." 

The  tears  stood  in  her  eyes.  Mr.  Jamieson  did 
not  understand,  and  so  Mrs.  Jamieson  told  him  the 
story  of  Jack's  refusal  to  tell.  When  it  was  finished 
he  said  to  Jack  : 

"  Gordon,  that  was  the  act  of  a  true  and  unselfish 
friend.  As  the  little  woman  says,  you  have  saved 
her  from  a  great  deal  of  ugly  talk,  and  though  I 
could  have  explained  all,  still  explanations  do  not 
follow  close  on  suspicions.  I  thank  you  most 
gratefully.  Few  men  would  have  been  unselfish 
or  courageous  enough  to  have  faced  the  possible 
consequences." 

"  Pooh  !  pooh  !  "  cried  Jack,  feeling  very  red  and 
uncomfortable.  "  The  obligations  are  all  on  the 
other  side.  It  was  very  little  to  do  in  return  for  all 
the  kindness  and  friendship  I  have  had  at  the  handa 
of  Mrs.  Jamieson  and  yourself." 

Seizing  the  first  opportunity,  he  hurried  away  to 
escape  their  protestations  of  gratitude.  He  felici- 


160        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

tated  himself  again  and  again  that  he  had  not  been 
betrayed  into  revealing  Mrs.  Jamieson's  name  un- 
der the  circumstances,  and  he  thought  that  a  deeper 
mystery  had  settled  on  the  case.  Dismissing  fur- 
ther thought  of  the  matter,  he  hastened  to  Lucy, 
filled  with  pleasurable  anticipations. 


^CHAPTER 


LUCY'S  CRIME. 

I^HE  letter  announcing  Jack's  release  was  re- 
ceived by  Lucy  with  surprise  and  delight. 
She  had  been  in  a  flutter  of  excitement  ever 
since  she  left  Jack  in  the  morning.  His  declaration 
of  love  had  filled  her  with  happiness,  though  she 
by  no  means  felt  it  was  to  continue.  Hanging 
over  her  was  the  dread  of  the  result  of  her  avowal 
to  him  of  that  fault  —  that  crime  she  had  committed. 
Through  her  love  and  gratitude,  and  because  of 
her  admiration  for  him,  she  so  magnified,  in  her  own 
eyes,the  noble  qualities  and  keen  sense  of  honor  of  her 
lover,  she  made  sure  her  revelation  would  shock  and 
disgust  him,  and  that  he  would  fly  from  her.  Not- 
withstanding the  happiness  she  felt  over  his  love 
for  her,  she  was  miserable  whenever  she  thought  of 
the  necessity  of  that  tale.  Sometimes  she  wished 
she  had  not  told  him  at  all,  but  had  let  events  take 
their  course.  Let  him  love  and  be  loved  in  return, 
with  her  mysterious  connection  with  Renfrew  un- 
explained. Yet  when  her  commonsense  came  up- 
permost she  knew  that  such  a  course  was  impossi- 
ble. When  she  thought  of  the  misery  she  had  en- 
xlured  the  past  three  years  she  was  glad  she  had 
not  permitted  herself  to  drift  into  another  decep- 
tion. To  leave  the  misery  unexplained  and  to 
marry  him  would  be  to  give  cause  for  suspicion  and 
distrust  from  the  beginning.  No,  she  would  not 
deceive  him.  She  preferred  to  lose  him  to  doing 

161 


1 62        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

that.-  He  deserved  all  the  good  she  could  give  him, 
and  she  would  not  repay  his  kindness  and  his  love 
with  deceit.  This  was  the  burden  of  her  thought 
when  she  fell  asleep  and  when  she  awoke  in  the 
morning. 

Lucy  regarded  Dr.  Sherman's  absence  from  town 
as  fortunate,  since  she  could  entertain  Jack  in  their 
own  parlors,  free  from  the  intrusion  of  strangers. 
To  secure  herself  from  any  interruptioo  whatever, 
she  instructed  her  maid  to  go  to  the  office  immedi- 
ately after  Gordon's  arrival,  and  announce  that 
Miss  Sherman  was  out  for  the  day. 

Accordingly  when  Jack  presented  his  card  at  the 

desk  of  the  B hotel  he  found  the  way  open  for 

him.  In  after  years  he  thought  Lucy  never  looked 
more  beautiful  than  she  did  that  afternoon,  when 
she  rose  to  greet  him,  evidently  attired  for  the 
event.  It  was  not,  however,  her  attire  which  in 
his  opinion  heightened  her  beauty.  It  was  the 
modesty  of  her  demeanor,  the  happy  light  in  her 
eyes,  and  the  warm,  bashful  blushes  covering  her 
cheeks. 

"You  can  not  tell,"  she  said,  "what  pleasure 
your  note  gave  me  last  night.  I  should  not  have 
rested  comfortably  if  I  had  supposed  you  were  still 
confined  in  that  horrid  jail  !  " 

"  Don't  call  it  horrid,"  replied  Jack.  "  It  was  in 
that  blessed  jail  I  found  my  senses  and  my  happi- 
ness." 

Lucy  blushed  again  and  toyed  with  a  rose  she 
had  taken  from  the  table. 

"  You  did  not  tell  me  how  you  were  released  so 
soon.  I  am  anxious  to  know." 

So  Jack  was  again  compelled  to  tell  the  story. 

"  Are  you  satisfied  as  to  the  truth  of  your  suspi- 
cions?" she  asked. 

"  Upon  the  contrary,  I  am  satisfied  all  suspicion 
in  that  direction  was  misplaced.  I  have  felicitated 


LUCY'S  CRIME.  163 

myself  over  and  over  again  that  I  did  not  mention 
the  lady's  name.  Her  husband  satisfied  me  the 
pistols  passed  by  his  own  act  out  of  her  keeping 
two  years  ago." 

Lucy  felt  greatly  relieved  to  find  that  the  lady 
for  whom  Jack  had  made  his  sacrifice  owned  a 
husband  of  her  own,  for  she  had  entertained  a 
feeling  of  no  little  jealousy  toward  the  unknown. 
She  became  more  gay,  and  the  conversation  now 
drifted  into  a  channel  the  import  of  which,  enter- 
taining to  the  participants,  has  no  bearing  on  our 
story. 

The  afternoon  passed  rapidly, — a  fact  of  which 
Jack  was  made  conscious  by  the  sudden  flaring  of 
the  electric  lights  in  the  street.  So  he  approached 
abruptly  the  object  he  had  at  heart. 

"  Lucy,"  he  said,  moving  his  chair  closer  to  her 
and  taking  her  hand.  "  I  want  your  consent  to 
speak  to  your  father.  Why  should  we  delay  our 
happiness  ?  " 

The  girl  withdrew  her  hand  from  his. quickly, 
and  looking  down  remained  silent.  The  crucial 
time  for  her  had  come. 

"  You  know  I  love  you,  you  have  confessed  your 
love  for  me.  Why  put  obstacles  in  our  way  ? "  asked 
Jack. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Gordon,"  replied  Lucy,  her  voice 
trembling  and  the  color  flying  from  her  face, 
"  there  is  an  obstacle — a  serious  obstacle.  So 
great  a  one  that  all  the  hope  there  is  left  me  is, 
that  I  can  still  count  you  as  a  friend." 

"  Lucy,  my  love,  that  is  impossible,"  pleaded 
Jack.  "  I  must  be  something  more  than  a  friend 
to  you.  A  friend  always,  but  something  nearer 
and  dearer.  We  love  each  other,  and  surely  you 
must  see  that  it  must  be  all  or  nothing." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  replied,  the  tears  coming 
into  her  eyes.  "  It  was  a  thoughtless  speech.  It 


164        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

were  better  to  part  now,  while  I  still  have  your 
respect  and  esteem." 

"  That  is  quite  as  impossible,"  said  Jack,  firmly. 
"  I  won  you  fairly  as  ever  man  won  his  love.  Why 
should  I  give  you  up  ?  Indeed,  I  would  be  un- 
worthy the  love  of  any  woman,  and  certainly  of 
yours,  if  I  were  to  leave,  content  with  this  dismis- 
sal, while  you  do  not  deny  your  own  love." 

He  had  possessed  himself  of  her  hai>d  again  and 
was  pressing  it  to  his  lips,  an  act  of  which  she 
seemed  to  be  unconscious,  so  profound  in  thought 
was  she.  Suddenly,  however,  she  drew  it  from  him, 
and  springing  to  her  feet  said  : 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Gordon,  how  can  you  treat  me  so  ? 
You  are  cruel.  You  have  won  the  secret  of  my 
love  from  me — a  secret  I  meant  to  have  kept  to 
myself.  Why  do  you  tempt  me  ?  Can  you  not  see 
that  it  is  through  my  love  that  I  am  endeavoring 
to  act  honorably  toward  you  ?  That  I  would  save 
you  from  the  burden  of  a  wife  who  is  unfit  for 
you — for  whom  you  can  have  nothing  but  horror 
when  you  know  her  past.  Did  I  love  you  less  I 
could  accept  your  love  and  deceive  you.  But  I 
can't.  I  love  you  too  well,  and  I  am  trying— oh,  so 
hard  ! — to  do  my  duty  to  you.  If  you  have  no  pity 
for  me,  have  pity  for  yourself,  and  fly  from- 
me." 

She  walked  to  the  window,  completely  unnerved, 
and  looked  out  upon  the  street. 

Jack  followed  her  and  stood  respectfully  beside 
her,  while  he  waited  for  her  to  become  more  calm. 
When  she  seemed  more  composed,  he  took  her 
hand  and  leading  her  to  the  sofa,  seated  her  and 
placed  himself  beside  her. 

"  Lucy,"  he  said  quietly,  "  I  think  your  con- 
science is  very  tender,  and  that  you  have  become 
morbid  over  a  fault  many  people  would  have  long 
ago  forgotten." 


LUCY'S  CRIME.  165 

"  No,  no,  no  ! "  she  said.  "  You  do  not  know  how 
bad  it  is." 

"  The  girl  who  tells  the  man  she  loves  she  can  not 
become  his  wife,  because  of  some  fault  she  has 
committed,  can  not  have  a  vicious  heart." 

"Oh,  you  do  not  know  !     You  do  not  know  !  " 

"  You  recollect,"  he  said  tenderly,  "  I  was  to 
be  the  judge." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  Lucy,  nervously,  "  but  I've 
thought  it  all  over.  I  can  not  tell  you — I  do  not 
dare.  And  I  do  so  want  your  respect." 

"  I  owe  you  a  great  deal,"  said  Jack,  "  for  giving 
me  the  priceless  pearl  of  your  love,  but,  Lucy,  I  owe 
myself  something.  I  have  a  duty  to  myself  to  per- 
form. Do  you  suppose  1  can  let  all  the  glorious 
vision  of  the  happiness  which  burst  upon  me  when 
I  knew  you  loved  me  fade  away  and  make  no 
effort  to  turn  it  into  reality  ?  Do  you  suppose  I 
could  retain  my  own  self-respect  and  make  no 
effort  to  secure  for  myself  that  warm,  loving  heart 
of  yours  ?  Do  you  suppose  I  can  be  content,  or 
that  I  ought  to  be  content,  to  go  away  now  with- 
out better  reason  ? " 

"  But  you  don't  know  how — " 

"  No,  I  don't  know,  that  is  true.  But  I  can  look 
into  your  eyes  and  read  that  it  is  nothing.  I  can 
look  into  your  pure  face  and  see  that  wickedness 
does  not  reside  there.  Come.  If  it  pains  you, 
don't  tell  it.  I'll  put  my  trust  in  you,  and  we  will 
never  speak  of  it  more." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Lucy,  starting  up  again,  "  was 
ever  a  poor  girl  so  tortured  ?  And  I  am  trying  so 
hard  to  be  good  !  If  I  do  not  tell  him  I  will  lose 
faith  in  myself  ;  if  I  do,  I  will  lose  him." 

"  No,"  cried  Jack,  restraining  her,  and  gently 
forcing  her  to  sit  down.  "  I  do  not  love  lightly. 
I  have  found  that  out.  But,"  he  added,  almost 
sternly,  "  you  shall  choose  now.  Either  you  shall 


1 66        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

or  you  shall  not  tell  me.  But  in  either  event  I  go 
to  Dr.  Sherman  and  ask  for  this  hand.  I  will  not 
be  denied." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no!"  cried  Lucy,  terror-stricken. 
"Why  can't  you  let  me  go?  Why  drive  me  to  a 
humiliating  confession  ?  Why  force  me  to  lose 
both  your  esteem  and  your  love  ?  Go.  Have  some 
mercy  upon  a  poor  girl  who  would  lay  down  her 
life  to  save  you  from  harm.  Accept  the  devotion 
of  my  heart  and  go.  Oh,  why  don't  you  go  ?  " 

"  Why  don't  I  go  ?  "  said  Jack,  his  voice  vibrating 
with  passion  and  emotion.  "Why  don't  1  go? 
For  the  profoundest  of  reasons  :  I  love  you.  Go  ? 
Never.  While  strength  is  left  me  to  sue  for  my 
happiness,  here  I'll  stay." 

The  masterfulness  of  her  lover,  his  determination, 
and  the  love  glowing  in  his  face  gave  her  a  sense 
of  keen  pleasure,  notwithstanding  her  wretched- 
ness. She  laid  her  hands  upon  his,  looking  long 
into  his  radiant  face,  and  said  sadly  : 

"  Oh,  my  love,  my  love,  you  master  me  !  Here 
then  is  my  expiation.  For  love  of  you  I  sacrifice  my- 
self and  go  down  into  the  dark  waters  of  despair." 

She  slowly  drew  her  hands  from  him,  and  lifting 
them  to  her  face  covered  her  eyes.  Jack  looked 
at  her  compassionately.  He  thought  he  read  her 
accurately  when  he  determined  that  she  would 
never  yield  to  her  love  until  she  had  unburdened 
herself.  So  profound  was  his  trust  in  her  that  he 
believed  she  exaggerated  her  offense  ;  that  when 
it  was  told  it  would  prove  to  be  something  he 
could  laugh  away.  He  was  sure  she  had  become 
morbid  from  dwelling  long  upon  it.  So  he  waited 
patiently  for  her  to  begin.  The  early  darkness 
was  beginning  to  close  in  upon  them.  The  only 
light  was  that  given'  from  the  outside,  and  the  fire 
burning  brightly  in  the  grate. 

Lucy   withdrew   her  hands   from   her  eyes,  and 


LUCY'S  CRIME.  167 

clasping  them  on  her  knee  looked  over  them  to 
the  floor,  but  still  did  not  speak.  Jack  was  about 
to  break  the  silence  when  she  began. 

"  Dr.  Sherman,"  she  said,  in  a  low,  constrained 
voice,  trembling  with  agitation,  "  is  not  my  father. 
He  adopted  me  when  I  was  seventeen — five  years 
ago.  My  name  is  Lucy  Annesley.  My  father  was 
a  gentleman,  my  mother  a  lady,  but  they  were 
poor — very  poor — when  I  was  born.  My  mother 
died  long  before  I  could  recollect  her.  My  father 
died  when  I  was  eight.  I  fell  to  the  care  of  an 
uncle  who  lived  in  the  Far  West,  who  regarded  me 
as  a  burden  and  placed  me  in  a  school, — Miss 
Waltham's,  at  Rocky  Point, — and  then  left  for  his 
home  without  looking  upon  me." 

"  The  inhuman  wretch  !  "  cried  Jack. 

"  He  paid  my  expenses,  and  paid  them  regularly 
until  I  was  seventeen,  when  he  said  I  was  old 
enough  to  care  for  myself,  and  refused  to  maintain 
me  longer.  He  wrote  this  to  Miss  Waltham.  He 
never  wrote  to  me,  saw  me,  or  sent  me  a  message." 

"  He  was  heartless  !  "  cried  Jack. 

"  No,  he  considered  me  an  unjust  burden,  that 
was  all.  When  I  had  been  at  school  four  years, 
there  came  into  it  another  scholar,  like  me  alone 
and  friendless  in  the  world  ;  an  orphan,  and,  like 
me,  supported  through  the  charity  of  a  relative, 
quite  'as  unwillingly.  Singularly  her  name  was 
Lucy — Lucy  Annesley.  We  became  warm  friends. 
But  after  two  years  she  was  happily  released.  She 
died,  leaving  all  her  poor  earthly  treasures  and 
possessions  to  me.  Ah,  Lucy,  Lucy,  dear,  why 
was  it  you  ?  Why  was  it  not  I  ? 

Jack  moved  closely  to  her  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  hers,  but  she  gently  removed  it.  It  was  an 
action  which  seemed  to  tell  him  to  wait  until  he 
had  heard  her  story. 

"  Two  years  later,  when  I  was  nearly   sixteen,  a 


i68        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

letter  came  to  Miss  Waltham  from  a  gentleman 
abroad,  asking  about  Lucy  Annesley.  It  was  from 
Dr.  Sherman.  Miss  Waltham  wrote  him,  giving 
him  an  account  of  me.  This  led  to  a  correspond- 
ence with  me  which  was  continued  for  nearly  a 
year,  in  which  he  hinted  that  the  object  of  his  in- 
quiry and  correspondence  was  to  provide  for  my 
future.  From  the  time  my  uncle  cast  me  off,  my 
future  gave  me  anxiety,  and  I  built  largely  on  this 
prospect  Dr.  Sherman  held  out  to  me.  I  had  but 
one  relative  except  my  uncle,  and  he  was  a  cousin, 
a  young  man  of  twenty-four  or  five.  He  came  to 
see  me  from  time  to  time, — not  often.  And  this 
cousin  took  great  interest  in  the  proposed  action 
of  Dr.  Sherman.  His  name  was  Myers — Jacob 
Myers." 

Jack  started  violently. 

"Yes,"  continued  Lucy  sadly,  "  it  was  the  one 
you  knew  as  Cyril  Renfrew.  He  had  gone  on  the 
stage  and  adopted  that  name.  As  I  grew  near  my 
seventeenth  birthday  there  came  a  letter  from  Dr. 
Sherman,  saying  that  he  had  arrived  in  New  York 
and  would  within  a  week  or  two  visit  the  school. 
It  occurred  that  day  that  I  looked  into  the  box 
Lucy  had  left  me,  and  for  the  first  time  I  read  the 
old  love-letters  of  her  mother,  Lucy  had  treasured 
during  her  life.  To  my  consternation  I  found  it 
was  the  dead  Lucy  Dr.  Sherman  wanted  ;  that  he 
had  been  a  lover  of  her  mother  ;  had  written  the 
letters  ;  and  that  Lucy's  grandfather  had  refused 
to  permit  his  daughter,  Lucy's  mother,  to  marry 
Dr.  Sherman,  but  had  forced  her  to  wed  a  man 
named  Annesley,  who  I  have  since  learned  was  a 
distant  cousin  of  my  father.  I  was  greatly  dis- 
appointed." 

"  I  should  imagine  so,"said  Jack  sympathetically. 

"  That  afternoon  my  cousin  visited  me,  and  I 
told  him  of  my  crushed  hopes.  He  made  me  bring 


LUCY'S  CRIME.  169 

him  the  box,  and  he  read  the  letters.  He  asked 
many  question  about  Lucy  and  whether  any  of  her 
relatives  were  living.  When  he  learned  all  were 
dead,  he  put  the  wicked  idea  into  my  head  of  not 
informing  Dr.  Sherman  or  Miss  Waltham  of  my 
discovery." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Jack  ;  the  fault  was  made  clear  to 
him. 

"  He  urged  me  strongly.  He  painted  my  future 
in  strong  colors  ;  pointed  out  the  struggles  and 
privations  of  poverty  in  the  most  unattractive  way. 
Said  that  it  would  be  flying  in  the  face  of  Providence 
to  fail  to  take  advantage  of  the  good  fortune  held 
out  to  me.  He  laughed  at  my  opposition  and  qualms 
of  conscience.  He  said  there  was  a  conspiracy  of 
events  in  my  favor  ;  that  it  was  no  wrong  ;  that 
Dr.  Sherman  wanted  to  do  a  benevolent  act  and  I 
must  not  thwart  him.  He  made  me  promise  I 
would  not  inform  Miss  Waltham,  and  that  I  would 
not  tell  Dr.  Sherman,  until  he  saw  me  again.  Then 
he  wrote  daily  urging  me  not  to  undeceive  the 
doctor,  and  visited  me  every  two  or  three  days,  al- 
ways urging  me  forward  and  arguing  against  my 
conscience.  And,  oh,"  said  Lucy,  turning  a 
troubled  and  ashamed  face  on  Jack,  her  eyes  swim- 
ming in  tears,  "  what  could  I,  a  poor,  weak,  inex- 
perienced girl,  who  had  never  been  twenty-four 
hours  away  from  the  seminary  door,  do  against 
such  advice  and  against  a  man  of  the  world  ?  Oh, 
Mr.  Gordon,  is  it  a  wonder  if  I,  frightened  at  the 
prospect  of  life  as  painted  to  me,  presented  and 
urged  by  this  insidious  counsel,  proved  to  be 
weak  ?  " 

"  No,  no  !  "  cried  Jack,  moved  by  her  appeal  to 
him.  "  A  thousand  times  no  !  " 

"  But  I  did  not  yield  at  once.  I  debated  and  de- 
bated with  myself,  hesitating,  delaying  a  conclusion, 
fearing  to  go  forward,  and,  as  the  days  grew,  fearing 


17°         JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERR  A  N  T. 

to  go  back,  because  I  had  not  done  it  in  the  begin- 
ning when  I  first  knew, — when,  without  warning,  I 
was  called  into  the  presence  of  Dr.  Sherman.  I 
was  so  embarrassed  and  frightened  I  did  not  say 
anything,  for  I  could  not,  and  Miss  Waltham  and 
the  doctor  went  on  assuming  that  I  was  really  the 
one  he  sought.  When  I  tried  to  speak  it  was  too 
late,  and  I  was  committed  to  the  deception  before  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  what  I  should  do.  Then  I 
grew  afraid,  and  so  I  have  lived  on.  All  the  letters 
to  Jacob,  which  he  used  so  wickedly,  told  the 
whole  story  of  my  wicked  deception.  You  know 
the  rest.  And  thus  I  have  lived  the  He,  deceiving 
Dr.  Sherman,  the  adventuress  Jacob  called  me — a 
wicked,  designing  woman,  too  cowardly  to  tell  the 
truth,  but  bad  enough  to  go  on." 

Lucy  had  borne  up  bravely  as  she  told  the  story, 
but  now  that  it  was  finished,  she  threw  her  arms 
on  the  back  of  the  sofa  and  buried  her  head  in 
them 

Jack  permitted  her  to  exhaust  her  emotion  before 
he  spoke. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

JACK    AS    A    COUNSELOR. 

T  UCY  had  misinterpreted  Jack's  silence  ;  she 
J  v  had  persuaded  herself  the  inevitable  result  of 
the  story  would  be  to  drive  him  away  from 
her,  yet  when  she  found  he  was  silent,  and,  as  she 
believed,  because  of  her  wickedness,  the  conviction 
came  to  her  with  all  the  sharpness  of  a  new  grief. 
She  could  not  look  upon  him  ;  she  could  not  bear 
to  encounter  the  disgust  and  horror  she  felt  was 
pictured  on  his  face.  She  wished  he  would  go 
without  a  word  and  leave  her  to  herself.  All  was 
over  between  them,  and  the  sooner  the  end  came 
the  better. 

When  she  had  thrown  her  head  upon  her  arms, 
she  had  turned  her  back  to  Jack,  and  he  could  not 
see  her  face.  Presently  he  arose  and,  going  to  the 
other  end  of  the  sofa,  he  gently  took  her  hands  in 
his  own,  and  said  : 

"  Lucy  !     Lucy,  my  dear  !     Lucy,  my  love  !  " 

She  looked  at  him  in  wild  amazement.  In  her 
misery  was  she  losing  her  senses  ?  Had  he  indeed 
called  her  "  Love  "  ?  She  looked  into  his  eyes  and 
saw  there  divine  pity  and  love,  so  blended  that  it 
seemed  to  her  in  her  despair  the  soul  of  an  angel 
was  looking  through  them.  He  said  not  a  word, 
but  he  held  out  his  arms  to  her.  Overcome  by 
surprise  and  emotion,  she  flung  herself  upon  his 
breast  and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"  Come,  Lucy,  my  love,"  said  Jack  at  last. 
"  Look  up.  There  is  no  obstacle,  after  all." 

171 


I?2        JACK  GORDON,   KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"Oh, don't  be  kind  to  me,"  she  said  between  her 
sobs,  "  if  you  don't  mean  to  be  !  " 

"  Mean  to  be  ?  "  repeated  Jack,  with  a  low,  happy 
laugh.  "  I  mean  to  love  you  with  my  heart  of 
hearts.  Let  me  talk  to  you.  It  is  true  your  fault 
is  not  what  I  supposed  it  to  be.  It  is  true,  it  is 
even  graver  than  I  supposed  it  to  be.  But,  my  love, 
I  shall  not  blame  you  for  its  commission.  Young, 
inexperienced,  and  placed  in  an  almost  unheard-of 
position,  and  urged  thereto  by  one  who  should 
have  advised  you  differently,  I  do  not  know  that 
your  act  is  to  be  wondered  at.  I  shall  not  blame 
you,  but  if  I  were  so  disposed,  it  would  be  for  not 
telling  Dr.  Sherman  in  after-years  when  you  knew 
better." 

She  nestled  in  closer  to  him,  her  head  still  upon 
his  breast. 

"  I  often  thought  of  doing  it,  but  Dr.  Sherman 
is  so  stern  about  such  things,  and  Jacob  said  he 
would  put  me  into  prison,  and  that  frightened 
me." 

"  Ah,  I  suppose,"  said  Jack,  "  he  did  not  want 
you  to  cease  being  a  source  of  income  to  him. 
But,  Lucy,  I  am  surprised  Dr.  Sherman  did  not 
discover  the  imposition  himself." 

"I  suppose,"  said  Lucy,  "I  have  told  my  story 
badly.  Dr.  Sherman  is  very  sensitive  about  his  love 
episode.  He  has  grieved  a  great  deal  over  it,  and  it 
has  affected  his  whole  life.  He  never  talks  about 
it.  When  I  showed  him  the  little  box,  with  his 
letters  to  Lucy's  mother  and  some  little  trinkets  he 
had  given  her,  he  accepted  it  as  proof  of  my  birth, 
and  said  he  was  glad  I  had  them,  as  he  would  not 
have  to  make  further  inquiries  as  to  my  identity, 
and  thus  would  escape  prying  into  his  secrets. 
Nobody,  therefore,  knew  that  he  adopted  me  for 
any  other  reason  than  that  he  fancied  me,  or  that 
some  relation  existed  between  us.  No  one  knew 


JACK  AS  A    COUNSELOR.  1 73 

of  his  love  for  Lucy's  mother,  for  it  had  been  a 
secret,  and  he  had  lived  abroad  for  twenty  years." 

"It  is  plain  now,"  said  Jack.  "  Truly  it  was,  as 
your  cousin  said,  a  conspiracy  of  events  to  favor 
your  step." 

By  this  time  Lucy  had  been  restored  to  a  condi- 
tion approaching  her  usual  composure,  and  began 
to  realize  it  was  far  from  the  proper  thing  to  be  sit- 
ting with  Jack's  arms  around  her  in  a  room  lit 
only  by  a  grate  fire.  So  she  disengaged  herself 
from  his  embrace  and  lighted  the  gas.  Having 
done  so,  she  stole  a  shy,  half-apologetic,  half- 
appealing  and  wholly  wondering  glance  at  Jack. 
He  interpreted  it  with  the  intuitive  quickness  of  a 
woman. 

Rising  hastily  he  took  her  in  his  arms,  and,  before 
she  divined  his  purpose,  kissed  her  upon  the  lips, 
saying  : 

"  Lucy,  this  is  the  seal  of  our  engagement." 

The  warm  blood  rushed  over  her  face,  covering 
her  neck. 

"  You  still  love  me,"  she  said  with  a  soft  glance, 
"  after  my  confession  ?  " 

"  With  all  the  warmth  of  this  poor  heart,"  he 
replied.  "  I  never  meant  to  let  you  go,  Lucy.  If 
your  fault  had  been  greater,  it  would  have  been  the 
same,  but  it  is  far  from  irreparable.  Dr.  Sherman 
must  be  told  of  it." 

Lucy  shuddered. 

"  It  will  be  a  great  shock  to  him,"  she  said,  "  for 
he  has  grown  fond  of  me  in  his  way." 

"  Do  you  fear  his  anger  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  he  will  not  forgive  me.  He  is  relentless 
in  his  vengeance,  and  he  will  discard  me.  He  will 
regard  it  all  the  more  as  a  personal  wrong  since  I 
have  become  necessary  to  his  comfort." 

"  Then  we  must  go  about  it  diplomatically." 

"  i  do  not  know  what  you  mean." 


174        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  We  shall  not  tell  him  until  after  we  have  ob- 
tained his  sanction  of  our  engagement — until  after 
it  has  been  announced  and  he  is  committed  to  it. 
Then  he  will  have  the  interest  of  a  third  person  to 
consider." 

"  Ah,  but  Jack,  dear  " — this  was  the  first  time 
she  had  called  him  so,  and  she  was  immediately  re- 
warded— "  all  this  will  involve  you  in  much  annoy- 
ance, perhaps  shame  and  humiliation.  You  will 
grow  ashamed  of  your  promised  bride,  I  am 
afraid." 

"  My  dear  Lucy,"  replied  Jack,  laughing,  "  it  is 
too  late  in  the  day  for  you  to  talk  about  involving 
me.  You  did  that  by  existing.  Why,  you  did  it 
by  going  into  that  restaurant  the  first  night  I  saw 
you." 

She  looked  into  his  eyes  anxiously,  but  saw 
nothing  but  love  beaming  in  them. 

"  No,  Lucy  darling.  I  am  certain  now  I  loved 
you  from  the  moment  I  first  saw  you.  I  regard  you 
wholly  as  a  victim  of  circumstances,  alone  in  the 
worfd  without  proper  guardians  or  counselors,  and 
we'll  fight  our  way  together,  hand  in  hand,  please 
God.  What  causes  me  the  most  wonder  is,  how 
you  came  through  all  the  stress  and  strain  so  un- 
spoiled, so  innocent,  and  so  true-hearted.  Your 
struggles  are  mine  now,  and  while  I  do  not  pretend 
to  any  piety,  I  say,  and  say  it  fervently,  I  thank 
God  for  it." 

Lucy,  with  eyes  shining  with  love  and  admira- 
tion, said  in  reply  : 

"  Oh,  Jack,  you  are  noble — you  are  a  god/' 

"  No,  no,"  said  Jack,  laughing,  "  not  a  Greek 
god,  certainly,  with  this  nose — very  common  chap, 
I  assure  you,  when  you  come  to  know  me  as 
I  am." 

"  You  are  the  god  of  my  idolatry,  Jack,"  she 
said  shyly,  her  cheeks  aflame.  "  You  are  my  good 


JACK  AS  A    COUNSELOR.  175 

angel.  You  have  saved  me  from  a  great  deal. 
You  don't  know  how  wicked  I  have  been.  Could 
you  believe  that  I  meant  to  kill  myself  on  the 
Thursday  night  Jacob  said  I  must  bring  the 
money  ? " 

Jack  looked  at  her  incredulously,  but  Lucy  so 
earnestly  affirmed  it  he  was  forced  to  be4ieve  her. 
She  told  him  of  her  scene  with  her  cousin,  and  her 
determination  and  preparation  to  dispose  of  herself 
before  exposure — a  result  frustrated  by  Renfrew's 
death. 

"  You  were  worked  up  into  a  highly  nervous  con- 
dition which  did  not  permit  you  to  see  clearly," 
said  Jack,  quite  horrified  by  the  recital. 

"  I  presume  so.  Poor  Jacob,  he  paid  the  penalty 
of  his  evil-doing  with  his  life." 

*'  What  do  you  know  of  his  evil-doing  ?  "  asked 
Jack. 

"  Very  little  ;  but  Captain  Lawton  told  me  a 
number  of  letters  had  been  found  in  his  room 
showing  he  was  extorting  money  from  women  in 
the  basest  way,  for  he  had  won  their  affections  and 
compromised  them.  He  asked  me  whether  I  knew 
a  '  Dollie  Dux? '  I  said  no,  of  course,  for  it  was 
such  an  absurd  name.  But,  Jack,  when  you 
brought  me  my  letters  I  found  among  them  one 
signed  by  that  name." 

"  Oh!  "  said  Jack,  "  I  hope  you  have  burned  your 
letters." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  burned  all  of  mine.  I  saved  the  one 
written  by  '  Dollie  Dux,'  and  why  I  hardly  know. 
Let  me  show  it  to  you  ;  it  is  a  sad,  pathetic 
letter." 

She  ran  off  into  an  adjoining  department,  and, 
quickly  returning  with  it,  handed  it  lo  Jack. 

He  looked  over  it  hastily. 

"  Why,"  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  of  date  of  the  day 
before  the  murder  !  " 


176        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 
He  read  it  aloud  : 

"  DEAR  CYRIL  :  I  write  you  in  an  agony  of  tears.  Why  do 
you  torture  me  so  ?  I  have  given  you  the  best  love  of  my 
heart,  the  love  I  have  not  given  to  any  other  man,  not  even 
my  husband.  I  have  given  you  the  pledge  of  it,  for  I  have 
given  you  my  honor.  More  no  woman  can  give,  for  when  she 
has  given  that  she  has  given  all.  Yet  you  return  this  affection 
by  cruelty  and  threats.  I  can  not  give  you  any  more  money. 
You  must,  you  shall  believe  this.  If  you  must  expose  me, 
recollect  that  I  have  done  all  I  could.  Heaven  knows  how 
truly  I  am  speaking.  I  have  no  means  left.  All  my  jewels 
are  in  pawn  and  I  am  wearing  imitations  in  their  places,  and 
tremble  lest  the  deceit  be  discovered.  I  am  distracted. 
Really  I  am  bordering  on  insanity.  I  am  sure  if  you  could 
see  the  nights  I  pass,  how  I  walk  the  floor  in  an  agony  of  fear 
and  grief,  longing  for  morning  to  come,  to  make  another  effort 
to  secure  money  for  you,  only  to  find  it  impossible,  you  would 
have  some  pity  for  me.  I  am  growing  desperate.  I  can  not 
face  the  disgrace  of  the  terrible  fall  you  threaten  me  with.  Oh, 
God,  help  my  poor  mother  !  Do  have  some  pity  on  me. 

"  I  sign  myself,  not  gayly,  but  as  I  am  accustomed  to, 

"  DOLLIE  Dux." 

"  The  infernal  scamp !  "  said  Jack,  quivering  with 
indignation. 

Oh,  the  poor,  poor  creature  !  "  said  Lucy. 

"  You  say,"  asked  Jack,  "  that  Captain  Lawton 
told  you  a  number  of  such  letters  were  found  in  his 
room  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  that  mine  were  not  among  them." 

"  No,"  replied  Jack,  "  but  they  would  have  been 
had  I  not  compelled  him  to  give  them  up.  Evi- 
dently the  police  think  that  this  is  the  woman  who 
killed  him." 

"  Oh,  do  you  think  so  ?  "  asked  Lucy,  going  over 
to  Jack  and  looking  over  hi?  shoulder. 

"  Yes,  you  see  it  is  his  latest  intrigue." 

"Why,  Jack,  that  writing  seems  familiar  to  me. 
Let  me  think." 

"  Don't  think,  Lucy,"  said  Jack  hastily,  and  fold- 
ing the  letter  up.  "  Put  this  letter  away  ;  don't  try 


JACK  AS  A    COUNSELOR.  177 

to  think,  but  forget  it  as  soon  as  you  can.  It  is 
dangerous  to  know  too  much,  and  a  secret  is  a  bur- 
densome thing.  Just  think  what  a  narrow  escape  I 
had  from  putting  a  perfectly  innocent  woman  under 
suspicion." 

He  handed  the  letter  back,  and  bending  over 
her,  kissed  her,  saying  :  • 

"  I  have  been  here  an  unconscionably  long  time 
and  must  go.  When  Dr.  Sherman  returns  I  will 
call  upon  him  immediately,  and  then  I  hope  I  can 
see  you  daily  without  remark.  Good-by,  darling." 

He  left  her,  happier  than  she  had  been  in  all  her 
life  before. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

SOME    MATTERS   OF    INTEREST. 

THE  dread  of  Dr.  Sherman's  anger,  when  he 
should  come  to  know  of  her  deceit,  could  not 
mitigate  Lucy's  joy.  She  felt  strong  now,  and 
a  new  existence  was  given  her.  Not  only  had  love 
entered  her  heart  and  found^  that  welcome  a  true 
woman  always  gives  the  little  god,  but  she  found 
what  she  never  before  had — a  staff  to  lean  u  pon.  She 
now  had  some  one  to  cling  to — to  rely  upon  ;  some 
one  to  whom  she  could  unburden  herself,  reserving 
nothing.  It  was  luxury  she  had  never  enjoyed,  for 
there  was  her  secret  which  she  had  to  guard  jeal- 
ously. Now  there  was  some  one  she  was  dear  to, 
who  would  be  interested  in  her  slightest  thought, 
to  whom  she  could  freely  go  with  all  her  troubles. 
No  one  had  hitherto,  except  in  a  brief  and  a  disas- 
trous period,  stood  in  such  relation  to  her,  and 
while  Dr.  Sherman  was  kind  and  generous,  still  the 
offense  she  had  committed  against  him,  if  not  the 
habitual  austerity  of  his  nature,  prevented  commu- 
nity of  sentiment.  In  short,  she  had  been  isolated 
from  that  tender  human  sympathy  which  is  the  lot, 
to  the  great  good  fortune  of  the  world,  of  a  vast 
majority  of  the  young.  Her  experience  had  been 
singular  and  unnatural.  That  she  had  passed 
through  the  fire  of  her  ordeal  without  a  totally  ruin- 
ous warping  of  her  moral  nature,  was  strong  testi- 
mony to  the  natural  goodness  of  her  mind  and 
morals. 

Upon  Jack's  part,  it  is  only  due  to  him  to  say, 
178 


SOME  MATTERS  OF  INTEREST.  179 

that  he  had  not  been  blinded  by  his  love  for  Lucy. 
He  saw  without  prejudice  her  fault  was  grave, 
amounting  in  fact  to  a  crime.  He  was  much  trou- 
bled by  it.  While  his  affection  for  her  was  by  no 
means  diminished,  while  he  was  firmly  determined 
he  should  make  her  his  wife,  still  he  confessed  to 
himself  she  did  not  measure  up  his  standard  of  the 
ideal  woman.  But  if  there  was  a  lessening  of  the 
high  respect  he  would  have  found  profound  pleas- 
ure in  according  to  Mrs.  John  Gordon,  there  was  a 
great  accession  of  pity  and  sympivthy  for  the  girl 
who  had  been  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  have,  at  a 
trying  moment  of  her  life,  the  proper  guardians 
and  counselors.  He  keenly  discriminated  between 
the  offense  itself  and  Ihe  circumstances  surround- 
ing the  impulse  which  gave  it  effect,  and  he  found 
much  to  excuse.  It  was  not  the  commission,  as  he 
had  said,  so  much  as  the  continuance  of  it,  over  so 
many  years,  which  was  to  him  so  grave.  He  made 
up  his  mind  the  fault,  so  far  as  it  could  be,  should 
be  repaired  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  that  he 
would  conduct  the  reparation  so  as  to  shield  Lucy 
as  much  as  she  could  be  shielded  from  the  conse- 
quences of  her  wrong-doing. 

Of  course  from  the  standpoint  of  a  rigid  moralist 
this  was  all  wrong.  He  ought  to  have  spurned  with 
contempt  further  connection  with  Lucy,  plucked  out 
the  love  he  had  conceived  for  her  by  the  roots,  and 
pluming  himself  upon  the  righteousness  of  his  cause, 
•gone  straightway  to  Dr.  Sherman  and  discovered  to 
him  the  abnormal  wickedness  of  the  girl  he  had  cher- 
ished and  protected,  and,  with  virtuous  hugs  of 
himself,  looked  with  melancholy  pleasure  upon  her 
punishment.  But  Jack  was  far  too  human,  had  too 
much  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness  in  his  breast, 
too  much  charity  in  his  soul,  too  great  a  love  for 
his  species  and  too  little  for  himself ;  in  short,  Jack 
was  too  much  of  a  Christian  to  be  a  rigid  moralist. 


l8o        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

The  days  passed  by  slowly  as  they  waited  for  the 
return  of  Dr.  Sherman,  who  had  extended  his  trip 
to  Washington  further  south,  and  thus  prolonged  his 
stay  from  New  York.  It  was,  however,  a  happy 
time  for  Lucy,  who,  basking  in  the  sunshine  of  her 
joy,  gave  no  thought  of  the  morrow.  She  talked, 
walked,  and  rode  with  Jack,  content  that  the  glori- 
ous days  should  stretch  into  eternity.  And  Jack 
every  day  discovered  in  her  some  new  charm  of  mind 
and  nature.  So  it  came  about  that  he  saw  less  of 
his  male  companions  and  less  of  their  haunts. 

One  day  he  awoke  to  the  fact  that  he  met  where- 
ever  he  went,  at  whatever  hour  of  the  day  or  night, 
a  person  respectably  clad,  who  seemed  to '  have 
business  in  whatever  part  of  the  city. Jack  was,  and 
none  when  he  got  there.  If  Jack  walked  the  streets,  he 
was  walking  in  the  same  direction  behind  him;  if  Jack 
stopped  to  talk  with  an  acquaintance,  the  stranger's 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  nearest  show-window; 
if  Jack  went  into  a  hotel,  he  was  there  in  a  moment 
looking  over  the  news-stand,  reading  advertisements 
on  the  walls,  or  idly  watching  passers-by  while  lean- 
ing against  a  neighboring  pillar  ;  if  Jack  left  his 
club,  by  a  remarkable  coincidence  the  man  was  just 
passing  ;  if  he  made  a  call,  while  standing  at  the 
door  waiting  for  a  response  to  his  ring,  the  man 
passed  by  taking  note  of  the  number  of  the  house. 
The  only  time  when  he  missed  him  on  the  street 
was  when  he  was  walking  with  Lucy. 

This  had  been  going  on  for  several  days,  when 
the  thought  occurred  to  him  that  the  man  was  a 
detective  dogging  hjs  footsteps.  This  idea  had 
broken  upon  him  a's  he  was  walking  up  Fifth 
Avenue,  opposite  the  Worth  monument,  and  acting 
upon  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  he  called  one  of 
the  cabs  drawn  up  at  the  curbstone,  and  gave 
orders  to  be  driven  at  once  to  Police  Head- 
quarters. 


SOME   MATTERS  OF  INTEREST.  1 8 1 

Seeking  Captain  Lawton,  he  was  at  once  ushered 
into  that  official's  room. 

11  Don't  you  think,"  said  Jack,  "  that  this  perse- 
cution of  me  ought  to  cease  ? " 

"What's  the  matter  now? "calmly  queried  the 
Captain. 

"  I  am  dogged  by  one  of  your  hounds  every  step 
I  take." 

The  detective  smiled,  but  looked  annoyed. 

"  The  fellow  has  been  doing  his  work  badly,"  he 
replied.  "  You  should  not  have  known  it." 

"  You  confess  it  then  ? " 

"  Yes.  What  else  could  I  do  ?  Be  a  little  rea- 
sonable, Mr.  Gordon.  I  have  a  duty  to  perform. 
My  profession  may  not  be  what  comes  up  to  your 
high  notions,  but  it's  work  that  has  got  to  be  done. 
Now,  you've  got  hold  of  a  clue  you  won't  give  up. 
I've  got  to  get  it  some  way.  That's  all  there  is 
about  it.  You'd  make  it  easier  for  me,  if  you'd  tell 
what  you  know." 

"  Well,  must  an  inoffensive  private  citizen  be  an- 
noyed in  this  way  ?  " 

''•  You  don't  look  at  it  right,  Mr.  Gordon,"  said 
the  detective  calmly.  "  Here's  a  murder  done  ;  the 
law  says  the  murderer  must  be  punished.  Before 
that  can  be  done  the  murderer  has  got  to  be  caught. 
That's  where  we  come  in.  We  are  in  the  business 
because  we  are  necessary  to  good  government.  The 
law  don't  want  to  punish  a  man  for  revenge  ;  the 
law  is  above  revenge ;  it  punishes  severely  as  a 
warning  that  men's  lives  can't  be  taken  carelessly; 
it  punishes  to  prevent  other  murders.  Why,"  said 
the  detective,  warming  to  his  subject,  and  pacing 
up  and  down  his  narrow  office,  "  why  what  kind  of 
a  city  would  ye  have  here  if  anybody  could  go  out 
and  commit  a  murder  for  the  liking  of  it — why,  with 
the  criminal  classes  pourin'  in  here  from  all  parts 
of  the  world,  if  that  was  allowed,  Dead  wood,  Lead 


1 8  2        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERR  A  N  T. 

City,  and  the  mining  camps  woudn't  be  a  patch  on 
New  York.  No,  sir,  you  walk  to  your  home  after 
midnight  and  sleep  safe,  you  go.  up  and  down  this 
city  at  all  hours,  safe  and  unharmed,  with  more  mur- 
derers, thieves,  sluggers,  cutthroats,  assassins,  and 
jail-birds  in  it,  than  there  are  people  in  any  of  the 
towns  or  cities  west  of  Chicago  or  St.  Louis,  because 
we  are  always  tracking  crime,  and  because  the  pros- 
ecuting authorities  are  always  punishing  it.  Per- 
haps we  don't  track  crime  accordin'  to  the  rules  of 
good  society.  You  are  a  good  deal  more  intelli- 
gent than  the  ordinary  man,  Mr.  Gordon,  and 
you  ought  to  know  that  I've  got  to  do  my  duty  with- 
out fear  or  favor.  And  I  want  you  to  know  I'm  goin' 
to  do  it,  and  I  ain't  goin'  to  ask  by  your  leave  neither." 

Jack  could  not  but  recognize  the  truth  of  the 
detective's  remarks,  and  he  felt  something  like  ad- 
miration for  the  dogged  determination  of  the  man. 
It  quite  fell  in  with  his  own  spirit. 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,  Captain,'.'  he  said,  "  and 
I  don't  think  I  have  looked  at  the  matter  or  you 
properly.  When  a  man  is  doing  his  duty  as  he  sees 
it,  he  is  doing  the  best  he  can.  If  I  have  given 
you  offense  in  the  past,  I  beg  your  pardon.  Here's 
my  hand." 

The  detective  put  out  his  hand  : 

"  I'd  rather  any  time  have  you  for  a  friend  than 
an  enemy,  Mr.  Gordon,  for  you  are  both  a  man  and 
a  gentleman." 

"  But,"  said  Jack,  "  what  do  you  hope  to  accom- 
plish by  shadowing  me  ?" 

"  I  know  that  a  woman  committed  that  murder. 
You  have  a  suspicion  who  that  woman  is — a  woman 
you  know.  I  must,  therefore,  know  all  the  women 
you  do,  and  sift  them  down." 

"  Well,  Captain,"  said  Jack,  laughing,  "  that  is 
too  much  of  a  contract  for  any  one  man,  and  I  will 
let  you  out.  The  suspicion  was  all  wrong." 


SOME  MATTERS  OF  INTEREST.  183 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  The  lady  whose  good  name  I  was  trying  to  save 
is  not  connected  with  the  matter  at  all." 

Jack  then  told  the  detective  all  that  had  occurred 
between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jamieson  and  himself,  sup- 
pressing only  their  names. 

"  Have  you  any  objections  to  giving  the  names 
of  your  friends  ? "  said  the  detective,  after  a  mo- 
ment's reflection. 

"What  use  would  you  make  of  the  information  ? 
Would  you  make  their  names  public  ? " 

"  Not  at  all.  I  have  got  to  search  for  the  last 
owner  or  possessor  of  that  pistol.  Your  friends 
would  serve  as  a  starting-point." 

"  The  people  are  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Walter  Jamieson." 

"  The  swell  lawyer  of  Wall  Street  ?  I  understand 
now  why  you  were  so  careful.  It  is  a  thread  broken 
and  we're  apparently  all  at  sea  again.  But  so  much 
rubbish  is  cleared  away.  The  point  gained  is,  that 
it  must  be  some  one  in  the  Jamieson  set." 

"  I  presume  so." 

"And  you  know  her." 

"  Perhaps  I  do,  since  I  know  nearly  everybody  in 
that  set." 

"  Exactly.  I  must  go  to  Jamieson  and  see  if  I 
can  not  start  his  memory." 

"  I  do  not  think  you  will."- 

"  Why,  because  he  won't  try  to  remember  ? " 

"  No,  because  he  can't.  He  has  tried  often 
enough,  and  is  much  annoyed  over  the  loss  of  the 
pistols.  They  were  rare  and  valuable." 

"  I  can  try,"  said  the  detective  thoughtfully. 
"  You  do  not  think  they  went  into  the  hands  of 
Miss  Sherman  ? " 

"  No,  I  know  that." 

"  How?" 

"  Two  years  ago,  when  these  pistols  passed  from 
the  hands  of  Mr.  Jamieson,  she  was  in  Europe  with 


1 84        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

her  father.  Besides,  the  Jamiesons  and  she  were 
not  acquainted  until  this  winter." 

"  But  they  might  have  gone  into  her  hands  indi- 
rectly from  other  people's,  recently.  You  know 
she  called  on  Renfrew  that  day  ? " 

"  I  know.  So  did  I.  She  visited  him  before  I 
did.  Renfrew  told  me  so  then.  No.  Dismiss  that 
idea.  Now,  see  here,  Captain,  I  want  you  to  tell 
me  if  there  is  any  necessity  of  bringing  Miss  Sher- 
man's name  in  this  affair  ? " 

"  No,  unless  she  touches  the  murder  or  the  cause 
of  it." 

"  She  doesn't.  Not  even  remotely.  I  don't  mind 
telling  you,  Captain,  I  an.  deeply  interested  in  Miss 
Sherman — that  we  are  engaged,  though  our  en- 
gagement is  not  yet  announced." 

"  And  you  don't  want  your  bride  that  is  to  be 
mixed  up  with  that  fellow's  affairs.  That's  natural." 

"  Precisely." 

"  I  suppose  she  has  burnt  those  letters  you  got 
from  him  ?  " 

"  Yes.    But  they  had  no  bearing  on  the  murder." 

"  You  told  me  you  didn't  know  what  was  in 
them?" 

"  I  didn't  then.  I  do  now.  I  have  learned  every- 
thing from  her  lips.  The  letters  were  written  when 
she  was  sixteen  or  seventeen." 

"A  foolish  flirtation,  she  said." 

"  That  was  a  pardonable  fib,  Captain,  to  cover 
the  real  nature  of  their  contents.  I  know  the 
story." 

"  She  may  be  '  stringing '  ypu." 

Jack  was  annoyed. 

"  Now,  Captain,  I  may  be  a  fit  subject  for  'string- 
ing,' as  you  call  it,  but  there  was  none  in  the  case." 

"  Those  letters  might  have  thrown  some  light  on 
this  affair." 

"  No,  they  could   not  have  helped  you.     But  I 


SOME  MATTERS  OF  INTEREST.  185 

will  tell  you  something  of  value  to  you,  believing 
that  you  will  not  unnecessarily  bring  her  name  into 
the  matter." 

The  detective  was  interested. 

"  You  have  been  trying,"  continued  Jack,  "  to 
get  at  Renfrew's  antecedents.  I  will  tell  you  all 
you  can  learn  after  a  year's  search.  His  name  was 
Jacob  Myers.  He  changed  his  name  when  he 
adopted  the  stage  as  a  profession.  He  had  not  a 
single  relative  on  eartu  except  Miss  Sherman,  who 
was  his  cousin." 

The  detective  \:az  deeply  interested  now. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Jack.  "  His  family  are  all 
dead,  and  hers  aho." 

"  Except  Dr.  Sherman  ?  " 

"  No.  He  is  not  related  to  either.  Miss  Sher- 
man is  his  adopted  daughter.  Her  name  is  An- 
nesley." 

"  Where  did  he  come  from  ?  " 

"  The  neighborhood  of  Cornwall." 

"  She  ought  to  know  something  about  his  life, 
though  ?" 

"  She  does  not.  There  never  was  much  inti- 
macy. From  the  time  she  was  eight  until  she  was 
seventeen  she  was  continuously  at  school  at  Rocky 
Point.  During  that  time  she  only  saw  him  at 
intervals,  at  the  school,  when  he  visited  her  there. 
Afterward  when  she  left  school  and  went  to  Dr. 
Sherman  she  saw  less  of  him.  He  never  called  on 
her,  and  she  saw  him  only  on  the  street.  You  see, 
Captain,"  said  Jack,  becoming  a  little  more  earnest 
than  was  necessary,  and  thereby  slightly  exciting  the 
suspicion  of  the  detective,  "  there  was  a  family 
matter  which  Miss  Sherman  had  foolishly,  even 
wrongfully,  concealed  from  Dr.  Sherman, — a  con- 
cealment that  led  to  trouble  for  her  and  to  con- 
sequences that  were  wrong  and  an  outrage  upon 
Dr.  Sherman.  Of  this  Myers,  or  Renfrew,  what- 


1 86        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

ever  you  may  call  him,  was  aware,  and  he  led  her 
into  a  correspondence  in  which  she  told  under  her 
own  hand  the  whole  story.  With  perhaps  the  most 
of  men  this  wouldn't  have  amounted  to  much,  but 
with  Dr.  Sherman  it  meant  a  great  deal.  Hav- 
ing got  the  story  in  her  own  handwriting,  this 
Renfrew  began  a  systematic  course  of  frightening 
her  ;  and  she  being  but  a  child,  and  inexperienced, 
became  alarmed,  and  instead  of  going  straightway 
to  the  Doctor  with  it,  as  she  ought  to  have  done, 
submitted  to  blackmail  until  I  stepped  in  and  put 
an  end  to  it." 

Jack  had  very  adroitly  told  the  story,  without 
revealing  the  truth,  and  he  succeeded  in  lulling  the 
suspicions  of  the  detective. 

"That  story,"  said  the  Captain,  "accounts  for 
everything  I  couldn't  make  connections  on.  I  see 
now  why  she  was  so  anxious  to  recover  her  letters. 
No,  she  hadn't  any  motive  to  kill  her  cousin,  for  if 
the  worst  had  come  there  would  have  been  a  row, 
big  or  little,  with  the  Doctor.  She  wouldn't  have 
been  disgraced.  Well,  Mr.  Gordon,  I  don't  see 
any  call  for  the  name  being  roped  in." 

"  I  am  very  glad  of  that." 

"  I  want  to  ask  you  a  question,  Mr.  Gordon. 
You  saw  the  woman  who  called  on  Renfrew  last  ? " 

"Yes,  she  came  in  as  I  was  going  out." 

"  Could  you  describe  her  ?  " 

"  No.  She  was  too  closely  veiled  and  dressed 
plainly,  even  poorly,  in  black.  There  was  some- 
thing familiar  about  her  walk  and  voice,  but  I 
could  not  fix  anything  then,  and  I  can't  now  of 
course.  I  had  an  odd  idea  at  the  time  that  she 
knew  me,  for  when  she  saw  me  descending  the 
stairs,  she  walked  a  step  toward  me  as  if  she  were 
about  to  speak,  and  then  abruptly  turned  off  and 
walked  away  to  the  boy,  who  came  up  at  that 
moment." 


SOME  MATTERS  OF  INTEREST.  187 

"More  proof  that  she  is  in  your  set.  That's 
where  I  will  have  to  work,  Mr.  Gordon,  I  am 
greatly  obliged  for  this  call.  You  have  cleared  a 
deal  of  brushwood  away  for  me." 

The  detective  turned  to  his  desk,  and  taking  from 
it  a  letter  handed  it  to  Jack. 

"  That  letter,  Mr.  Gordon,  was  written  by  the 
woman  who  killed  Renfrew." 

Jack  took  it  with  some  curiosity.  It  was  signed 
"  Doliie  Dux,"  and  he  recognized  the  writing  to  be 
the  same  as  that  in  Lucy's  possession.  The  while, 
the  detective  watched  him  keenly  as  he  read  it 
through.  Having  finished  it,  he  looked  at  the 
writing  again  and  at  the  paper. 

"  Evidently  the  letter  of  an  educated  woman 
who  is  very  nice  about  her  stationery,"  he  said,  as 
he  handed  it  back. 

"  You  do  not  recognize  the  handwriting  ?  " 

"  No,  I  do  not." 

"  What  do  you  mean  about  the  stationery  ?  Any- 
thing peculiar  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  !  It  is  the  stationery  of  a  refined  woman, 
particular  about  such  things.  It  is  hard  to  explain 
just  what  I  mean.  Show  me  the  letters  of  a  dozen 
women  of  various  classes  and  \  can  pick  out  the 
letters  of  the  refined  woman  of  society  and  breed- 
ing from  those  written  by  the  women  who  are  not.". 

"  Ah,"  said  the  detective,  feeling  that  Jack  was 
getting  beyond  him.  "  Here  are  the  rest.  They 
may  interest  you." 

Jack  took  them  and  looked  them  over. 

"  The  infamous  scamp  !  "  he  cried.  "  How  could 
he  treat  such  a  woman  so  !  " 

"  He  was  more  than  infamous,"  said  the  detec- 
tive, in  a  tone  of  great  disgust.  "  He  was  a  blind 
fool.  He  ought  to  have  known  that  women  who 
plead  that  way  and  don't  threaten  are  far  more 
dangerous  in  their  desperation.  Women  who  have 


1 88        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

got  a  high  place  in  society,  who  are  proud,  and 
whose  fall  is  a  great  fall,  nerve  themselves  up  to  do 
the  most  desperate  thing.  In  my  judgment  they 
are  driven  over  the  line  of  insanity.  You  read 
those  letters  and  you  see  that  woman  hadn't  slept 
for  weeks.  She  was  in  constant  fear  of  exposure 
every  day.  I  don't  think,  when  you  come  right 
down  to  it,  that  she  was  quite  responsible  when  she 
did  it." 

"  What  makes  you  fix  upon  these  letters  as  show- 
ing the  writer  of  them  murdered  Renfrew  ? "  asked 
Jack. 

"  The  way  she  talked  in  them  first  gave*  me  the 
idea.  Then  I  concluded,  as  you  did,  that  she 
was  well  up  in  society  and  had  a  great  deal  to  lose 
in  exposure.  But  when  I  compared  the  dates,  I 
found  she  was  the  only  one  he  was( having  an  affair 
with  at  the  time.  All  the  others  were  finished. 
See,"  he  continued,  showing  Jack  another  package. 
"  He  indorses  on  the  back,  '  Played  out  to  end.' 
'  No  further  good.'  He  had  some  such  indorse- 
ment on  all  the  rest." 

"  Do  y^oti  suppose  she  went  there  with  deliberate 
intent  to  kill  ?  " 

"  That  is  hard  io  tell.  You  don't  know  what 
her  intent  was.  Doubtless  her  motives  were  mixed. 
If  the  truth  could  only  be  known  I  believe  she 
hadn't  any  fixed  plan.  No  doubt  she  had  an  idea 
of  killing  somebody,  since  she  had  a  loaded  pistol 
with  her,  but  it  might  have  been  herself  she 
thought  of  doing.  Then  something  occurred 
between  them,  and  on  the  impulse  she  killed  him." 

"  Do  you  think  that  stationery — that  kind — was 
used  by  her  only  ?  "  he  continued. 

"  No,"  replied  Jack,  "  probably  two  hundred 
women  in  New  York  are  using  the  same  kind 
to-day." 

"  You  see  there  is  a  scent  of  patchouli  on  them," 


SOME  MATTERS  OF  INTEREST.  189 

said  the  detective.  "  The  pistol  had  it  too  when  I 
first  found  it." 

"  That  might  prove  to  be  a  clue,"  said  Jack.  "  I 
don't  think  women  of  society  use  that  kind  of  per- 
fume much.  If  they  do  they  don't  confine  them- 
selves to  one  kind." 

"  That  is  a  point  to  know,"  replied  the  detective. 
"  Well,  Mr.  Gordon,  the  man  who  has  been  annoy- 
ing you  by  following  you,  shall  be  withdrawn 
immediately." 

"  Thank*." 

They  shook  hands  on  parting,  having  a  hearty 
respect  for  each  other. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

TRUE    LOVE  RUNS  SMOOTHLY. 

A  DAY  or  two  after   the  second  interview  be- 
tween Captain  Lawton  and  Jack,  the  latter  re- 
ceived information  that  Dr.  Sherman  was  at 
home.     Accordingly  he  addressed  a  polite  note  to 
that  gentleman,  requesting  permission  to  call  upon 
a  matter  of  importance,  at  any  hour  that  day  which 
might  be  named  by  the  Doctor. 

In  due  course  of  time  his  messenger  returned 
with  the  word  that  the  Doctor  had  appointed  the 
hour  of  four.  As  his  business  with  Dr.  Sherman 
was  momentous  and  demanded  proper  preparation, 
Jack  determined  that  he  would  not  go  out  until  the 
approach  of  the  hour  he  was  to  call  upon  Lucy's 
father.  So  he  spent  the  day  in  framing  speeches 
until  the  time  for  dressing,  when  making  an  elab- 
orate toilet  he  sallied  forth. 

On  his  way  he  met  "  Dizzy  "  Lowell  and  Will 
Robb,  come  in  search  of  him  with  a  desire  to  carry 
him  off  to  some  sport  they  had  in  hand. 

"Where  have  you  kept  yourself  ?"  cried  Robb. 
"  The  town  languishes  for  you,  and  your  friends 
know  you  not." 

"  Yes,"  chimed  in  "  Dizzy,"  "you've  bolted  the 
course." 

"  Having  become  implicated  in  a  murder  affair," 
said  Jack  in  reply,  "  it  behooves  me  to  keep  quiet." 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  "  said  "  Dizzy."     "  We  pulled  you 
through  that  all  right.     You  don't  want  to  get  "out 
of  training  because  of  that  little  thing,  do  you  ?  " 
190 


TRUE  LOVE  RUNS  SMOOTHLY.  191 

"  The  truth  is,"  replied  Jack,  anxious  to  be  rid  of 
them,  "  I  have  had  a  great  many  things  pressing 
on  me  because  of  that  complication,  all  of  which 
you  shall  know  in  good  time." 

"Well,  all  right,"  said  Robb, — "but  we  have  got 
up  a  private  scrapping  match.  We  want  you  to  go 
with  us  this  afternoon." 

"  Impossible.     I  have  an  engagement." 

"  With  a  woman  ?     Throw  it  over." 

"  No,  it's  not  a  woman  and  I  can't  throw  it 
over." 

"  Hope  it's  not  more  of  that  Renfrew  case,"  said 
"  Dizzy  "  anxiously.  "  'Tain't  'nother  arrest,  is  it  ? " 

"  Worse,  far  worse,"  said  Jack  solemnly  ;  "  may 
involve  my  liberty  for  my  whole  life.  But  I  must 
be  off.  Good-by,  old  chappies." 

And  before  they  could  detain  him  he  had  turned 
the  corner. 

The  two  looked  at  each  other  in  alarm. 

"  Jack's  going  to  the  bad,"  said  "  Dizzy  "  mourn- 
fully. 

"  Tell  you  what  it  is,"  said  Robb  earnestly,  as  a 
new  thought  broke  on  him.  "  He's  going  to  pro- 
pose to  some  woman.  He's  going  to  get  married." 

"  Oh,  the  devil  !  Not  so  bad  as  that.  Hang  it, 
that's  worse  than  the  other.  Can't  we  do  some- 
thing to  pull  him  through  ?" 

"  Who  is  the  woman,  I  wonder  ?  " 

"  Damfino  !  Wish  it  was  my  sister.  She  wants 
just  such  a  cool  head  and  light  hand  on  the  mouth. 
She's  a  good  girl,  too,  with  all  her  no.nsense,  and 
I'll  bet  she'll  trot  better  double  than  single." 

Will,  having  inclinations  in  the  direction  sug- 
gested by  his  friend,  could  not  echo  the  wish, 
though  he  indorsed  the  sentiment. 

In  the  mean  time  Jack  was  making  his  way  to  the 

B hotel.  He  had  informed  Lucy  by  note  that 

he  should  call  on  the  Doctor  to  make  a  formal 


192        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

demand  for  her  hand  that  day  at  four,  and  so,  when 
he  was  ushered  into  the  presence  of  her  father,  she 
was  not  present. 

The  Doctor  gave  him  a  courteous  greeting — 
indeed  a  cordial  one.  Jack  argued  therefrom  a 
satisfactory  result  for  his  call.  He  was  wrong, 
however,  in  his  supposition,  for  it  is  to  be  doubted 
whether  the  Doctor  had  given  a  moment's  thought 
to  the  object  of  Jack's  visit.  But  it  happened  he 
had  traveled  from  Washington  the  day  previous 
with  Mr.  Van  Huyn,  who  had  entertained  him  with 
an  account  of  Jack's  confinement,  and  his  refusal 
to  involve  a  lady's  name  in  a  scandal  on  mere  sus- 
picion, even  if  the  result  were  to  him  confinement 
in  jail,  and  the  old  gentleman,  thinking  it  an  evi- 
dence of  fine  and  chivalric  feeling,  was  highly  pre- 
possessed in  Jack's  favor. 

Jack  opened  his  business  without  delay. 

"  Doctor,"  he  said,  "the  object  of  my  call  is  to 
propose  in  this  formal  manner  for  the  hand  of  your 
daughter." 

The  old  gentleman  was  startled.  The  marriage 
of  Lucy  was  something  he  had  not  contemplated  as 
likely  to  occur  in  the  immediate  future  at  least. 
Jack's  blunt  proposition  disconcerted  him. 

He  fidgeted  about  in  his  chair  for  a  moment  or 
two,  looking  somewhat  irritably  upon  the  calm,  ele- 
gant figure  before  him. 

"Why,  Mr.  Gordon,"  he  at  length  said,  "your 
proposal  startles  me  !  I  have  had  no  reason  to 
anticipate  the  honor,  and — and — indeed  I  have  not 
thought  of  Miss  Sherman's  marriage." 

"  I  beg,  sir,"  said  Jack,  in'  his  most  deferential 
manner,  "you  will  give  it  consideration,  and,"  he 
added  insinuatingly,  "  favorable  consideration." 

"  I  presume,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  "you  have 
the  young  lady's  permission  to  address  me  ?  " 

Jack  answered  him  that  he  had,  adding  that  else 


TRUE  LOVE   RUNS  SMOOTHLY.  193 

he  would  not  have  taken  it  upon  himself  to  seek 
such  an  interview. 

"In  my  young  days  it  was  thought  necessary  to 
ask  the  parent  for  permission  to  address  the  daugh- 
ter. But  the  world,  moves  along  and  we  old 
people  find  ourselves  left  behind,  unable  to  keep 
up  with  the  rapid  motion  of  the  present.  Whether 
it  is  an  improvement  I  doubt.  However,  I  shall 
not  endeavor  to  stop  the  way  with  my  feeble  pro- 
test. I  confess  to  you  that  my  idea  was  that  Miss 
Sherman  should  not  marry  before  twenty-five.  She 
is  twenty-two  now." 

"  If  you  will  permit  me,"  said  Jack,  "  before  we 
go  further  into  this  conversation,  I  will  make  a 
statement  concerning  myself  which  you  ought  to 
have,  and  which  you  would  naturally  expect  me  to 
make,  if  you  were  to  look  favorably  upon  my  suit." 

"  The  young  dog  expresses  himself  well," 
thought  the  old  man. 

"  I  desire  to  say,"  continued  Jack,  "  that  I  am 
well  born,  and  have  an  ample  fortune  to  maintain 
my  wife  in  all  the  comfort  and  luxury  she  has  been 
accustomed  to  ;  that  I  am  well  educated  ;  refined 
I  hope,  and  that  my  morals  are  certainly  not  worse 
than  the  .average  young  man  of  the  day." 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Gordon,"  said  the  Doctor,  "I 
have  heard  nothing  of  you  that  is  not  admirable. 
And  I  distinctly  wish  you  to  understand  that  I  do 
not  resent  your  proposition.  It  is  a  high  compli- 
ment to  a  lady  when  a  man  so  distinguishes  her 
from  among  her  sex.  I  so  regard  your  proposition. 
There  are  several  things,  however,  I  desire  to  say. 
Are  you  aware  that  Miss  Sherman  is  not  my  daugh- 
ter, that  she  bears  my  name  by  adoption  only  ? " 

"  The  lady  has  so  informed  me." 

"  Very  properly  under  the  circumstances,"  said 
the  old  gentleman.  "  Did  she  tell  you  why  I 
adopted  her  ?" 


194        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  She  was  not  explicit.  I  think,  if  I  understood 
her  rightly,  because  of  the  great  regard  you  bore 
the  memory  of  her  father." 

This  was  adroit  of  Jack,  and  he  saw  the  old  man 
was  greatly  pleased. 

"  You  misunderstood  her,  sir,"  he  replied  ;  "  it 
was  the  mother.  Are  you  aware  that  Miss  Sher- 
man has  no  fortune  of  her  own  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  given  the  matter  a  second's  thought. 
I  care  not  whether  she  has  one  or  two  pennies.  I 
have,  thanks  to  my  father,  far  more  than  enough 
for  both." 

The  old  gentleman  was  pleased  again.  Jack  was 
doing  famously. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Gordon,  I  confess  I  do  not  look  upon 
the  loss  of  Miss  Sherman  with  favor.  She  has  grown 
dear  to  me,  and  what  is  perhaps  more  to  a  selfish 
old  man,  rather  necessary  to  my  old  age." 

"  It  will  not,  I  am  sure,  be  a  total  loss,  though 
her  affections  may  be  divided." 

"  If  what  you  have  told  me  is  true,  I  fear  the 
division  has  already  taken  place.  However,  I  can 
not -expect  to  dam  the  current  of  young  people's 
affections,  and  I  have  no  right  to  deprive  Lucy  of 
her  proper  and  natural  life.  But  have  you  not 
been  somewhat  precipitate  in  your  action?" 

"  I  think  not,  sir.  I  will  tell  you  frankly  I  have 
not  known  the  moment  since  I  first  saw  her  that  I 
have  not  loved  her  deeply." 

"  Ah,  yes,  at  Mrs.  Jamieson's.  I  thought  then 
you  were  greatly  attracted  to  each  other."  The 
old  man  laughed.  "  I  warned  her  against  your 
specious  tongue,  but  the  warning  seems  to  have 
had  no  effect." 

To  this  Jack  made  no  reply. 

"  Well,"  continued  the  Doctor,  "  I  have  no  ob- 
jections to  present,  Mr.  Gordon.  If  I  refrain  from 
giving  my  sanction  at  this  moment,  it  is  only  be- 


TRUE  LOVE  RUNS  SMOOTHLY.  195 

cause  I  desire  to  satisfy  myself  that  Miss  Sherman's 
affections  are  truly  engaged,  and  because  in  my 
duty  to  her  I  wish  to  make  the  proper  inquiries  as 
to  yourself.  I  have  no  doubt  everything  is  as  you 
say,  and  being  so  I  will  not  withhold  my  sanction. 
Sir,  I  congratulate  you  on  having  won  the  af- 
fections of  a  very  fine  woman." 

The  blood  rushed  into  the  face  of  Jack  on  this 
remark,  for  he  thought  of  the  interview  he  must 
subsequently  have  with  this  fine,  honorable  old 
gentleman,  and  the  revelation  he  would  have  to 
make.  He  felt  a  profound  pity  for  him.  How- 
ever, he  rose,  and  taking  the  old  man's  hand  he 
shook  it  warmly,  and  said  : 

"  I  thank  you,  sir  ;  I  am  not  unappreciative  of 
my  good  fortune.  I  hope  if  your  inquiries  result 
to  my  favor  you  will  find  in  my  love,  care,  and 
protection  of  your  daughter,  reason  to  conclude 
that  you  have  acted  wisely  in  confiding  her  to 
me." 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  still  holding  the  old 
man's  hand,  and  then  went  on,  his  voice  trembling 
a  bit:  "  And  I  venture  to  hope  you  will  find,  so 
far  from  having  lost  a  daughter,  you  have  gained  a 
son,  and  that  I  shall  have  replaced  the  father  I  lost 
so  early." 

The  old  man  was  not  a  little  moved  by  this  un- 
expected outburst  of  Jack,  and  he  returned  the 
shake  of  his  hand  heartily. 

There  was  so  much  in  common  in  the  natures  of 
both  that,  having  had  a  glimpse  of  the  heart  of  the 
other,  they  had  come  to  fancy  each  other  greatly, 
and  both  were  sincere.  But  what  had  touched 
Jack  most  keenly  was  the  pity  he  felt  for  Dr. 
Sherman,  when  he  should  know  how  he  had  been 
deceived. 

Jack  soon  after  took  his  leave. 

"  A  fine  fellow.     A  fine,  manly,  wholesome  young 


>96        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

fellow,"  said  the  Doctor,  as  he  paced  up  and  down 
the  room  with  his  hands  behind  his  back. 

"  He  is  an  old  trump.  A  fine,  courtly  old  gen- 
tleman. He's  a  brick,"  said  Jack,  as  he  descended 
the  stairs. 

The  Doctor  was  still  pacing  up  and  down  the 
room  in  the  darkening  shadows  when  Lucy  came  in. 

"  So,"  said  the  Doctor,  facing  about  upon  her 
with  pretended  severity. — "  So,  I  can  not  leave  town 
for  a  short  time  but  you  must  begin  to  make  love 
to  one  of  the  rapid  young  men  of  the  town  !  " 

"  Mr.  Gordon  is  not  rapid,  he  is  a  very  noble 
man,"  said  Lucy,  blushing,  and  quick  to  resent  any 
aspersion  upon  Jack. 

"  Now,  did  I  say  anything  about  Mr.  Gordon  ?" 
asked  the  Doctor,  struggling  hard  to  repress  the 
smile  on  his  lips,  and  very  much  pleased  with  her 
quick  defense.  "  There  are  young  men  in  New 
York  other  than  Mr.  Gordon,  I  presume." 

Lucy,  realizing  her  blunder,  colored  deeply  and 
made  no  reply. 

"  So,  so  !  It  is  Mr.  Gordon  who  has  been  trifling 
with  your  affections,  is  it  ?  I  warned  you  against 
that  young  man  when  you  first  met  him." 

Lucy  walked  up  to  him  that  she  might  see  his 
expression,  looking  anxiously  into  his  face. 

He  took  her  hand  in  his  own  and  patting  it  kind- 
ly said  : 

"  So  there  is  somebody  in  this  world  who  wishes 
to  own  and  possess  for  himself  this  pretty  little 
hand.  Tell  me,  my  dear,  do  you  love  him, — this 
Mr.  Gordon  ? " 

Lucy  hung  her  head  with  becoming  modesty,  and 
acknowledged  she  did. 

"  Are  you  certain  it  is  not  a  mere  passing  fancy 
for  aruelegant  young  man  who  knows  how  to  make 
himself  agreeable  ? " 

"  No,  father,"  she  said,  "  I  love  him  with  all  my 


TRUE  LOVE  RUNS  SMOOTHLY.  197 

heart.  He  is  not  merely  an  elegant  young  man. 
He  is  a  noble,  high-minded,  generous  gentleman, 
worthy  to  be  mated  to  the  best  lady  in  the  land — 
much  my  superior.  I  not  only  love  him  ;  I  adore 
him.  I  am  humbled  by  his  love  for  me." 

The  old  man  drew  her  to  him  and  kissed  her  on 
the  forehead. 

"  I  am  satisfied  on  that  point,"  he  said  ;  "  I 
agree  with  you,  he  is  a  fine  fellow,  a. fine,  manly, 
wholesome  young  fellow.  I  am  sorry  to  lose  you, 
Lucy.  You  have  been  a  good  daughter  to  me. 
But  if  I  am  to  do  so,  as  I  suppose  I  must  some  time, 
it  is  to  such  a  man  I  wish  to  give  you.  If  all  I 
hear  of  this  young  robber  is  borne  out,  I  shall 
sanction  your  engagement.  But  hurry  away,  my 
dear,  and  prepare  for  the  evening.  Young  folks 
may  live  on  love,  but  old  ones  must  dine." 

*And  Lucy  did  hasten  away,  for  she  was  con- 
science-stricken because  of  his  kindness,  and 
remorse-stricken  over  her  deceit. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

A    WOLF    AMONG    THE    LAMBS. 

'"PHE  two  young  people  were  not   left  long  in 

doubt  as  to  the  sanction  of  Dr.  Sherman.    His 

inquiries  were  speedily  made  and  apparently 

satisfactory.     Lucy  early  informed  Mrs.  Van  Huyn 

of    her   engagement,  and   Jack  did    not  delay   in 

carrying  to    Mrs.    Jamieson,  his  steadfast    friend, 

the  all-important  fact. 

"  It  is  all  very  provoking,  Jack,"  said  that  ladj\ 
"I  intended  selecting  your  wife  myself,  and  here 
you  have  chosen  and  not  even  consulted  me.  I 
don't  know  that  I  should  have  done  any  better, 
certainly  not  in  appearances,  for  you  will  have  a 
lovely  bride.  But  after  I  have  been  carefully  train- 
ing you  in  the  way  you  should  go  for  so  many 
years,  to  find  that  you  go  off  in  this  independent 
manner  is  very  discouraging.  Not  that  I  have  a 
word  to  say  against  your  love.  Oh,  no  !  But  I  must 
be  propitiated.  You  must  let  me  give  a  party  next 
week  at  which  your  engagement  is  to  be  an- 
nounced. I  insist  upon  it." 

"  I  will  consent,"  replied  Jack  laughing,  "  if 
Lucy  will.  And  I  imagine  she  will  not  object.  1 
may  have  to  ask  favors  of  you  before  the  honey- 
moon is  reached,  so  I  shall  be' very  obedient." 

Lucy's  consent  was  easily  secured,  and  the 
"  world  went  very  well  in  those  days."  The  only 
thing  occurring  to  occasionally  dim  Lucy's  happi- 
ness and  to  cause  Jack  grave  apprehension,  was 
the  thought  of  the  necessity  of  informing  Dr.  Sher- 

198 


A     WOLF  AMONG    THE  LAMBS.  199 

man  of  Lucy's  deceit.  Jack  insisted  that  the  doc- 
tor must  be  told,  and  Lucy  yielded  always,  though 
she  found  excuses  for  the  postponement  of  the  rev- 
elation. The  only  question  was,  when  it  should 
be  done.  Jack  determined  that  the  best  results 
would  be  obtained  after  the  announcement  of  their 
engagement,  and  after  Dr.  Sherman  had  given  pub- 
lic sanction  thereto. 

Mr.  Jamieson's  party  occurred  the  following 
week;  the  surprise  she  had  promised  her  friends 
was  complete.  Jack  was  the  recipient  of  the  warm- 
est congratulations  from  the  men  and  Lucy  was 
prouder  than  ever  of  her  lover,  for  she  felt  she 
was  greatly  envied  by  more  than  one  young  lady 
present. 

Mollie  Lowell  and  Lou  Appleby  came  to  her  to- 
gether, saying  : 

"  We  do  not  propose  to  forgive  you  as  long  as 
you  live,  Miss  Sherman.  Your  offense  is  beyond 
forgiveness.  Jack  belongs  to  us  by  right  of  long 
expectancy." 

"  Not  to  both  of  you,  I  hope,"  replied  Lucy, 
laughing. 

"  Yes,  to  both  of  us,"  said  Mollie.  "  He  has 
made  love  to  us  both  ever  since  he  was  ten  years 
old,  and  indeed  in  this  very  room,  on  the  very  first 
night  he  met  you,  he  held  out  inducements  to  us, 
if  we  would  behave  ourselves  he  would  marry  us 
both.  Didn't  he,  Lou  ?" 

"  You  impeach  his  morals  !  "  cried  Lucy. 

"  He  did  indeed,  Miss  Sherman,"  said  Lou 
Appleby,  "  But  we  didn't  behave  ourselves  be- 
cause we  can't.  It's  all  very  unfair.  You  don't 
know  what  you  have  done — what  misery  you  have 
caused.  My  !  my  !  how  we  will  all  be  scolded  to- 
night. The  great  eligible  is  gone." 

"  Hook,  bob,  and  sinker,  as  '  Dizzy  '  says,"  inter- 
rupted Mollie. 


200        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"  All  of  us  have  been  trained  from  our  youth 
upward,"  continued  Miss  Appleby,  "  to  ensnare  this 
same  Jack  Gordon  ;  all  our  education  has  been  to 
that  end,  and  just  think  of  the  rage  of  all  managing 
mammas  over  the  failure  of  the  dear  daughters. 
You  have  no  consideration,  Miss  Sherman.  You 
have  no  right  to  be  so  beautiful  and  charming." 

"  Yes,  and  that  is  not  the  worst  of  it,"  added 
Mollie.  "  How  are  we  to  get  our  extra  gowns  and 
the  rest  of  the  things  now  ?  The  hint  that  Mr.  Gor- 
don was  very  tender  the  last  time  we  met,  and  the 
suggestion  that  a  new  toilette  would  fetch  him  at 
the  next,  was  sufficient  in  the  past.  But,  and  again 
I  quote  my  brother,  '  that  little  racket  won't  work 
any  more.'  " 

"  You  perceive  the  widespread  ruin  you  have 
caused,"  said  Lou  Appleby.  "  I  have  grave  doubts 
now  if  anybody  will  marry  me.  Jack's  promise 
was  the  nearest  approach  I  ever  had  to  an 
offer." 

"  Take  '  Dizzy,'  "  said  Mollie  ;  "  I'll  give  him  to 
you." 

"  I  should  have  to  wrap  myself  in  ahorse-blanket 
and  put  a  bridle  on  my  head  before  he  would  even 
think  to  look  at  me." 

Lucy  laughed  heartily  over  the  whimsical  speech, 
recognizing  its  point,  through  Jack's  description  of 
"  Dizzy's  "  devotion  to  the  stable. 

"  Miss  Sherman,"  said  Mollie,  dropping  into  a 
seat  beside  Lucy,  "  while  we  joke  we  congratulate 
you.  Jack  and  I  were  neighbors  when  we  were 
children  and  have  always  been  friends — chums. 
He  is  a  sterling  good  fellow,  a  trusty,  true  gentle- 
man." 

Lucy  thanked  her  so  heartily  with  her  eyes, 
bending  toward  her,  that  Mollie  thought  she  was 
about  to  kiss  her  in  the  crowded  rooms. 

"Oh,  don't  kiss  me!  "  she  cried,  "you'll  get  paint 


A    WOLF  AMONG    THE  LAMBS.  20! 

on  your  lips.  I'm  only  kissable  in  the  morning. 
It's  a  way  I  have  of  keeping-  the  men  off." 

Lucy  looked  so  horrified,  that  Lou  Appleby,  no- 
ticing it,  said  : 

"  Nonsense  !  There  never  was  any  paint  on  that 
blooming  cheek.  There  !  "  and  bending  over  her 
friend  she  kissed  her. 

Will  Robb  at  this  moment  joined  the  group. 

"  The  ease  and  indifference  with  which  you  per- 
form that  solemn  and  much  to-be-desired  rite,"  said 
he  to  Miss  Appleby,  "  is  particularly  harrowing  to 
my  soul." 

"  Never  mind  about  the  much-desired  rite, 
Will,"  said  Mollie,  "  congratulate  Miss  Sher- 
man." 

"  I  can't  do  it,  Miss  Sherman.  Upon  my  word  I 
can't.  I  have  performed  the  ceremony  with  Jack. 
He  is  to  be  congratulated.  But  you  are  stealing 
him  from  us  you  see." 

"  Why,  Will,  that  is  quite  a  pretty  speech,"  said 
Miss  Appleby. 

"Yes,  Will  is  improving,"  chimed  in  Mollie, 
"  about  the  time  I  am  ready  to  accept  him,  he  will 
do  to  propose." 

"  About  what  time  will  that  time  be  ?  "  said  Will 
taking  out  his  watch. 

"  Oh  dear,  this  is  too  bad,"  cried  Miss  Appleby. 
"  Bring  me  a  horse-blanket  and  a  bridle  and  send 
for  '  Dizzy.'  " 

"  Dizzy,"  however,  was  not  taking  the  news  as 
cheerfully  as  the  rest.  He  had  gone  to  Jack  as 
soon  as  he  had  seen  him,  and  with  anxious  solici- 
tude had  said  : 

"  I  say,  Jack,  can't  anything  be  done  to  get  you 
out  of  this  scrape  ?  " 

Jack,  who  was  very  fond  of  "  Dizzy,"  and  knew 
what  a  loyal  heart  beat  under  all  his  peculiarities, 
laughed  heartily  and  said  : 


202        JACK  CORD  ON,  If  NIGH  T  ERR  A  N  T. 

"  Oh,  no,  you  don't,  '  Dizzy.'  I  have  tried  too 
hard  to  get  into  it,  to  try  now  to  get  out  of  it." 

"  Dizzy  "  looked  at  him  sorrowfully. 

"Another  good  'un  gone." 

"Come,"  said  Jack,  "don't  draw  so  mournful  a 
face.  Let  m.e  present  you  to  the  fair  mistress  of 
my  heart." 

Slipping  his  arm  through  that  of  "  Dizzy,"  he 
led  him  to  where  Lucy  was  sitting,  surrounded  by 
his  friends. 

"  Lucy,"  he  said,  "  let  me  present  one  of  my 
dearest  friends,  who  is  trying  to  persuade  me  that 
I  have  made  an  irretrievable  mistake." 

"  Ah,  come  now,  Jack  !  "  said  "  Dizzy,"  becoming 
pink  to  the  tip  ends  of  his  ears.  "  That  is  not  at  all 
fair,  you  know.  If  he  must  marry,  Miss  Sherman, 
he  couldn't  do  better,  you  know." 

A  burst  of  laughter  greeted  his  speech,  in  which 
Jack  joined,  and  which  Lucv  did  not  take  in  good 
part. 

"  You  see,  Miss  Sherman,"  said  "  Dizzy,"  much 
disconcerted,  "  they're  all  laughing  at  me.  They 
always  do.  It  is  because  I'm  such  a  duffer  with 
my  tongue.  But  what  I  mean  is,  that  I  am  Jack's 
friend,  and  if  he  is  glad,  then  I'm  glad.  And  I 
know  when  I  look  at  you  that  he's  a  devilish  lucky 
fellow,  and  if  you're  going  to  be  Jack's  wife,  then 
you've  got  me  for  a  friend." 

"  Bravo,  '  Dizzy,'  "  cried  Will. 

"  So  say  we  all,"  said  Lou. 

Lucy  fully  comprehended  "  Dizzy  "  now,  and,  smil- 
ing, with  eyes  in  which  there  was  suspicious  mois- 
ture, she  put  out  her  hand  and  grasped  "  Dizzy's  " 
warmly. 

"  I  accept  the  friendship,  Mr.  Lowell." 

"  I  am  not  Mr.  Lowell,"  said  that  gentleman, 
feeling  he  had  recovered  himself  right  well.  "  That's 
Mr.  Lowell,"  pointing  to  his  sister.  "  She's  got  the 


A     WOLF  AMONG    THE   LAMBS.  203 

head,  if  it  is  full  of  nonsense.  I'm  '  Dizzy '  to 
you." 

"  And  to  every  one  else,"  said  that  young  lady. 
"  You've  done  well,  '  Dizzy,'  as  you  usually  do  in 
the  end.  Now,  don't  say  any  more,  or  you  will 
spoil  it  all." 

"  Miss  Sherman,"  said  Miss  Appleby,  "  you  have 
around  you  all  of  Jack's  most  intimate  friends  who 
are  still  unmarried.  We  hope  you'll  take  us  all  in, 
too." 

"  Still  unmarried,"  said  Will  Robb,  mischievously. 
"  That  reminds  me,  '  Dizzy,'  just  before  you  came 
up,  Lou  was  saying  she  was  going  to  make  a  dead 
set  at  you." 

"  Well,  Lou  ain't  so  bad,"  said  "  Dizzy,"  looking 
at  her.  "  A  fellow  might  do  worse." 

"  Thank  you,  '  Dizzy,'  "  said  Lou,  mischievously, 
after  the  laugh  had  subsided.  "  Am  I  to  take  that 
as  a  proposal  in  form  ? " 

"  Oh,  hang  it,  no  !  "  cried  "  Dizzy"  quickly.  "  You 
can't  stable  me  that  way." 

"  Another  chance  gone,  Lou,"  cried  Mollie,  amid 
the  laughter.  "  '  Two  old  maids  we  be.'  " 

By  this  time  "  Dizzy  "  was  pulling  Jack  aside  by 
the  arms. 

"I  say,  Jack,  I've  just  tumbled.  That's  the 
woman  we  bet  about,  the  one  you  drove  in  a  cab." 

"  You're  right,  '  Dizzy,'  "  said  Jack,  "  but,  for 
Heaven's  sake,  don't  say  anything  about  it  now." 

"  Oh,  I'm  mum,  if  you  want  it  so,"  said  "  Dizzy." 
"  Talking  about '  mum,'  let's  go  and  get  some  '  fizz.' 
It's  awful  dry  work  doing  the  polite." 

Thus  it  was  that  the  engagement  was  announced, 
and  there  followed  this  party  a  round  of  receptions 
and  dinners  that  nearly  wore  out  poor  Dr.  Sherman, 
who  seemed  to  think  it  incumbent  to  attend  all 
and  manifest  his  pride  in  Lucy's  prospective  hus- 
band. 


204        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

It  was  at  one  of  these  receptions  following  the 
party  given  by  Mrs.  Jamieson,  that  Jack,  while 
wandering  about,  saw  before  him  the  figure  of  a 
man,  strangely  out  of  place  and  yet  familiar  to  him. 
To  his  intense  surprise,  and  also  to- his  displeasure, 
he  discovered  in  the  person  Captain  Lawton. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  much  astonished  to  find  me 
here  ?  "  said  the  Captain. 
,    "  I  confess  it — " 

"  Well,  it  is  somewhat  astonishing,  T  suppose. 
But  you  ought  to  know  it  is  a  very  common  thing 
in  New  York  society  to  have  a  police  officer  at 
parties  and  receptions  now  in  full  dress." 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  New  York  society — I 
did  not  know  it." 

"  I  am  surprised  at  that.  However,  it  is  not  my 
line  of  duty,  though  I  am  following  it  up  pretty 
sharp  now." 

"  Oh,  I  understand,"  said  Jack,  a  light  breaking 
in  upon  him. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Captain,  "and  I  am  getting 
closer  and  closer  to  the  end." 

"  Have  you  fixed  upon  the  person  ?"  said  Jack, 
much  interested. 

"  No.  But  it's  one  of  seven.  It  was  one  of  eight 
yesterday.  I'll  work  it  down  to  the  one.  I'm  on 
the  right  track  now,  thanks  to  you." 

This  remark  did  not  please  Jack,  for  he  felt  as  if 
the  Captain  was  taking  him  into  partnership  in  a 
business  for  which  he  had  a  peculiar  loathing.  And 
bidding  him  a  short  good-by,  he  left  him  and 
sought  another  room. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

STARTLING    NEWS. 

TTOWEVER  easy  the  task  of  revealing  the  story 
11  of  Lucy's  deceit  to  Dr.  Sherman  may  have 
appeared,  Jack  found,  as  the  time  he  had  fixed 
upon  approached,  it  grew  more  difficult  and  dis- 
agreeable. How  was  he  to  palliate  Lucy's  offense 
to  this  gentleman  of  high  honor  and  rigid  propriety, 
with  his  strict  notions  as  to  the  relations  of  man  to 
man  and  to  society?  This  was  the  problem  always 
present,  and  it  is  not  surprising  if  at  times  he  be- 
came faint-hearted,  and  was  inclined  to  let  every- 
thing go — to  let  matters  take  their  own  course. 
Lucy,  perceiving  Jack  to  be  more  grave  and  pre- 
occupied than  was  his  wont,  and  fearing,  now  that 
the  first  novelty  of  his  love  was  worn  off,  he  was 
regretting  his  alliance  with  one  who  had  such  a 
stain  upon  her,  was  very  unhappy.  However,  she 
was  greatly  mistaken.  If  anything  Jack  was  fonder 
of  her  than  the  day  he  declared  his  love.  Though 
perplexed  and  often  grave  with  apprehension,  he 
was  really  feeling  that  now  he  had  her  to  think  for, 
to  care  for,  his  life  was  fuller,  sweeter,  and  more 
interesting. 

While  thus  disturbed  by  doubts  and  perplexities, 
Jack  further  troubled  her  by  insisting  upon  an 
early  marriage  ;  that  it  should  take  place  before 
Lent.  Lucy  rebelled.  She  pointed  out  to  him 
that  six  weeks  had  not  elapsed  since  they  had  be- 
come acquainted — that  such  precipitation  would 
give  the  world  a  great  deal  to  talk  about.  What 
205 


206       'JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

the  world  would  or  would  not  think  Jack  cared 
little,  and  as  to  the  brief  period  of  their  acquaint- 
ance and  courtship,  he  replied,  that  their  case  was 
singular  and  not  to  be  measured  by  the  experience 
of  others.  Peculiar  circumstances  surrounded  their 
acquaintance ;  they  had  been  drawn  closer  to- 
gether, had  been  enabled  to  peer  more  deeply  into 
each  other's  heart  and  nature,  than  would,  under 
other  conditions,  have  fallen  to  their  lot  in  a  year's 
intimacy.  Lucy,  who  had  early  fallen  into  the 
habit  of  being  guided  by  Jack,  yielded,  though 
without  being  convinced  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
course  proposed  by  her  lover. 

However,  Jack  had  looked  more  deeply  into 
their  affairs  than  she.  With  her  he  apprehended 
such  severe  displeasure  upon  the  part  of  Dr.  Sher- 
man, that  he  feared  she  would  be  without  a  home, 
and  he  felt  he  must  be  prepared  to  give  her  one  as 
soon  as  possible.  So  an  early  marriage  was  settled 
upon. 

Ever  since  Jack  had  assumed  the  relations  of  a 
prospective  son-in-law  to  the  Sherman  household,  it 
had  been  his  custom  to  almost  daily  entice  the 
Doctor  out  for  a  walk.  The  two  had  become  fond 
of  each  other.  Jack  had  the  greatest  respect  for 
the  Doctor,  who  had  seen  much  of  the  world.  The 
old  man  with  his  great  stores  of  information,  which, 
embellished  by  a  lively  fancy,  shrewd  observation, 
and  dry  wit,  he  poured  forth  under  Jack's  genial 
influence  and  intelligent  appreciation,  made  him  a 
delightful  and  entertaining  companion  for  the 
younger  man. 

On  the  occasion  of  one  of  these  walks,  Jack  had 
deftly  led  the  way  in  the  direction  of  his  own 
apartments,  and  on  reaching  the  house  said  : 

"  Doctor,  here  is  the  house  in  which  I  live.  I 
take  it  these  houses  were  not  unknown  to  you 
abroad,  but  they  are  comparatively  an  innovation 


STARTLING  NEWS.  207 

in  New  York.  They  are  houses,  you  know,  de- 
signed for  the  occupation  of  bachelors.  I  think, 
though  I  may  be  mistaken,  they  are  more  elegant 
and  commodious  than  anything  known  abroad. 
Won't  you  step  in  and  see  how  I  am  housed  ? " 

The  Doctor  complied.  In  this  Jack  had  a  pur- 
pose. He  felt  he  would  be  at  an  advantage  in  the 
revelation  he  was  to  make,  if  he  were  the  host 
rather  than  the  guest.  They  had  been  talking  of 
the  discovery  of  a  defalcation  by  a  man  who  moved 
in  good  society,  who  had  been  greatly  trusted,  and 
who  was  known  to  both — who  had  died  before  the 
discovery  was  made. 

After  the  apartments  had  been  duly  admired  and 
their  convenience  praised,  and  while  seated  in  the 
parlor,  the  Doctor  renewed  the  conversation  by 
saying  : 

"  After  all,  in  the  case  of  poor  Dillingworth, 
whether  there  was  crime  depends  largely  upon  the 
intent.  So  far  as  I  can  learn  there  does  not  seem 
to  be  any  property  left  to  his  family,  and  the  in- 
dications are  that  he  used  funds  of  one  trust  to 
make  up  deficiencies  in  others.  Was  he  using 
these  funds  for  speculation  for  his  own  benefit  ? 
Or  was  he  hoping  thus  to  repair  damages  he  had 
made  in  others  by  poor  investments — to  cover  up 
errors  of  judgment.  It  is  largely  a  question  of  in- 
tent. I  think  that  all  fault  should  be  measured  by 
intent,  and  to  a  great  degree  by  the  amount  of  and 
the  kind  of  intelligence  which  surrounds  or  influ- 
ences its  commission.  What  would  be  a  crime  in 
one  of  intelligence,  intellectuality,  and  experience 
in  affairs  might  in  another,  not  possessing  such  at- 
tributes, be  a  venial  fault." 

"  The  Doctor  has  opened  the  way,"  thought 
Jack,  "  in  an  almost  providential  manner." 

"Of  course,"  continued  the  Doctor,  "I  don't 
suppose  the  law  can  with  propriety  make  so  close 


208        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

a  distinction,  but  men  in  their  judgments  can.  We 
do  as  between  children  and  adults." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Jack.  "  1  know  of  a  case 
which  illustrates  your  point.  A  young  girl,  a  mere 
child  in  fact,  standing  alone  without  friends  or 
proper  counselors,  u'rged  by  a  false  friend  much 
older  than  herself,  not  appreciating  fully  the  con- 
sequences of  her  act,  actually  perpetrated  a  fraud 
upon  one  who  came  to  her  as  a  generous  bene- 
factor." 

"  The  child's  crime  should  be  measured  in  such 
a  case  by  her  intelligence  and  moral  responsibility." 

"The  peculiarity  of  this  case,"  continued  Jack, 
"  was  that  the  benefactor  was  offering  her  kind- 
ness and  protection,  when  he  thought  he  was  offer- 
ing it  to  another  person." 

"  It  was  then  a  case  of  false  pretense  ?  " 

"  Entirely  so." 

"  One  may  get  into  a  maze  of  metaphysics  in  an 
attempt  to  analyze,  subdivide,  and  classify  crime 
and  intent,  and  the  discussion  become  intermin- 
able. But  there  are  degrees  of  crime  that  may  be 
easily  stated.  False  pretense  is  a  lie  with  a  serious 
intent.  And  a  lie  is  a  crime  or  a  fault  for  which 
there  is  the  least  excuse.  The  lowest  intelligence 
can  differentiate  truth  and  falsehood,  and  the  most 
blunted  moral  nature  can  appreciate  the  wrong  of 
falsehood.  Now,  in  the  case  you  speak  of,  the 
degree  of  the  grievousness  of  this  false  pretense 
depends  upon  the  motive.  Let  me  illustrate. 
These  apartments  might  not  be  yours  ;  they  might 
belong  to  a  friend  ;  but  possessing  yourself  of  their 
keys,  you  might,  as  you  have  'done  this  morning, 
invite  me  to  them,  pretending  they  were  yours, 
having  for  your  motive  only  the  idea  I  would  con- 
sider you  of  more  importance  if  I  thought  you 
possessed  such  elegant  rooms.  Your  false  pretense 
would  have  done  me  no  harm,  and  you  would  have 


STARTLING  NEWS.  209 

only  gratified  a  silly  vanity.  But  if  it  had  been 
done  for  the  purpose  of  impressing  me  with  an 
idea  of  your  wealth  and  station,  when  you  had  none, 
to  induce  me  for  instance  to  grant  you  the  hand  of 
my  daughter,  you  would  have  committed  a  crime. 
So  in  the  case  you  speak  of.  What  was  to  be  ac- 
complished by  her  false  pretense  ?" 

"  A  home,  care,  protection,  freedom  from  the 
curse  of  poverty." 

"Ah,  that  is  bad.  You  say  the  benefactor  sup- 
posed her  to  be  some  one  else  ?" 

"  Yes.  He  came  to  the  school  searching  for  an- 
other of  the  same  name,  and  was  misled  by  others 
into  supposing  this  girl  to  be  the  one  he  sought. 
She  was  but  a  little  over  sixteen — nearly  seventeen, 
in  fact." 

As  he  said  this,  Jack  bent  a  piercing  glance  upon 
the  old  gentleman.  The  words  and  the  glance 
aroused  .the  Doctor.  He  looked  steadily  into  Jack's 
eyes  for  a  long  time,  and  Jack  as  steadily  returned 
the  look.  Ideas  were  communicated  in  these 
glances. 

"  You  have  a  purpose  in  telling  me  this  case,  Mr. 
Gordon,"  said  the  Doctor  sternly. 

"  I  have,"  replied  Jack,  "  and  no  one  can  grieve 
more  than  I  that  I  have  a  story  to  tell  you." 

"  And  it  relates  to — "  inquired  the  old  man,  his 
face  becoming  white  with  apprehension. 

"  To  Lucy." 

"  My  God  !  "  cried  the  old  Doctor,  sinking  back 
in  his  chair  arid  dropping  his  head  on  his  breast. 

No  words  were  spoken  by  either  for  some  time. 
Jack  watched  the  expressions  chasing  each  other 
over  the  face  of  the  fine  old  gentleman  sitting  over- 
whelmed before  him.  Perceiving  the  Doctor  had 
recovered  from  the  first  shock,  he  proceeded  with 
the  story.  He  told  it  with  all  the  art  he  was  capa- 
ble of.  He  dwelt  upon  Lucy's  homeless  and 


210        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

friendless  condition  ;  her  lack  of  home  training  and 
moral  guidance  ;  of  her  deprivation  of  a  mother's 
care  and  influence  ;  on  the  wicked  cousin,  with  his 
specious  counsel  and  malign  influence  ;  how  Lucy 
had  begun  the  correspondence  with  the  Doctor  in 
good  faith,  and  only  continued  it  under  the  urgency 
of  this  Mephistopheles.  He  showed  Lucy's  strug- 
gles with  herself  and  her  gradual  slipping  into  the 
crime  ;  the  aid  the  Doctor  gave  her  unconsciously; 
the  conspiracy  of  events,  all  tending  to  force  her 
into  her  false  position.  He  pictured  her  fear  of 
the  Doctor,  her  fear  to  reveal  her  wickedness  after- 
ward, her  penitence,  her  unhappiness,  and  the  tor- 
tures she  had  been  subjected  to  by  Renfrew.  Then 
he  artfully  presented  her  charming  qualities,  her 
affection  for  the  Doctor,  the  obedience  she  had 
given  him,  her  devotion,  and  the  brightness  and 
interest  she  had  brought  into  his  life. 

Then  he  waited  to  see  the  effect  he  had  pro- 
duced. The  old  man  did  not  look  up  for  a  long 
time,  and  the  lines  grew  deeper  in  his  face.  After 
a  long  period  of  thought  he  said  : 

"  You  plead  her  cause  well  and  eloquently,  but  it 
is  useless,  John,"  for  such  he  had  come'  to  call 
him. 

Jack  made  no  reply  ;  he  had  none  to  make. 

"  She  has  trifled  with  the  most  sacred  sentiment 
of  my  heart." 

"  That,  sir,"  said  Jack,  "  is  a  refinement  she 
could  not  have  been  expected  at  her  age  to  have 
appreciated." 

"  She  has  practiced  fraud,  deceit,  and  misrepre- 
sentation for  five  years — her  life  has  been  a  living 
lie." 

"  The  act  was  committed  five  years  ago,  and  the 
rest  was  a  consequence." 

"  Do  not  seek  longer  to  defend  her.  I  am 
crushed  by  this  revelation.  To  think  I  should 


STARTLING  NEWS.  211 

have  been  a  dupe  of  such  a  wicked,  designing 
chit — a  wicked  fraud — a  s — " 

"  Stop,  please,  sir,  before  you  apply  an  epithet 
you  will  afterward  regret,"  said  Jack,  gently,  laying 
his  own  upon  the  hand  of  the  old  man. 

The  touch  seemed  to  check  the  rising  passion  of 
the  Doctor. 

"  Well,"  he  said,.  "  I'll  pluck  her  from  my  heart. 
She  had  won  her  way  and  wound  herself  tightly 
about  it.  I  cast  her  off.  John,  we'll  both  forget 
her,  and  perhaps  because  of  our  sorrows  be  closer 
together." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Jack  firmly,  "  I'll  not  forget 
her.  She  is  my  promised  bride — my  chosen  wife. 
I  shall  marry  her." 

"  Are  you  mad, 'boy  ?  "  said  the  old  man  angrily. 
"  You  propose  to  marry  this  advent — " 

"  Stop,  sir,"  thundered  Jack.  "  I'll  not  listen  to 
abuse  of  her.  She  is  my  wife  now  in  the  sight  of 
God,  and  no  man,  no  matter  what  his  wrongs  may 
be,  shall  say  one  word  against  the  wife  of  John 
Gordon." 

Headstrong  and  unaccustomed  to  opposition  as 
was  the  Doctor,  he  nevertheless  looked  with  admira- 
tion upon  the  figure  Jack  presented. 

"  My  lad,"  he  said,  "  you  propose  to  marry  her 
still  ?  Don't  you  know  that  I  have  a  duty  to  per- 
form, in  punishing  her  ?  She  must  be  imprisoned 
for  her  crime." 

"  Yes,  I  shall  marry  her,"  replied  Jack  firmly, 
"  even  if  I  have  to  go  behind  prison  bars  to  do  it, 
Doctor.  I  love  her,  and  love  with  me  is  not  an 
idle  thing.  Sir,  since  we  have  become  acquainted 
I  have  grown  very  fond  of  you.  I  believe  you 
have  of  me.  You  have  so  treated  me." 

The  old  man  nodded  his  head  in  acquiescence. 

"  I  have  been  grateful  to  you  for  your  favor,  and 
have  been  proud  of  it,  and  I  do  not  believe  that 


212         JACK  GORDON,  KXIGHT  KRRANT. 

you  will  do  that  which  will  cause  me  sorrow,  shame, 
and  humiliation.  I  am  to  be  considered  in  this 
matter.  It  is  my  affair,  as  well  as  Lucy's  and 
yours." 

"  But  how  can  you  marry  one  for  whom  you 
must  have  lost  your  respect  ?  Why,  my  lad,  if  she 
has  deceived  me  in  this  manner,  she  would  deceive 
her  husband." 

"  No,  sir,  I  can  not  believe  it,"  returned  Jack 
earnestly.  "  I  have  seen  into  her  heart.  I  know 
how  penitent  she  is.  I  know  how  she  has  been 
purified  by  the  fire  she  has  gone  through.  She  has 
suffered,  and  through  suffering  she  is  regenerated. 
Lucy  Sherman  is  not  the  Lucy  Annesley  you 
found.  Do  not  take  offense  if  I  say  I  have  read 
that  girl  more  deeply  than  you.  When  she  came 
to  me  that  day  in  the  jail,  trembling  with  the  fear 
I  was  suffering  confinement  through  my  efforts  to 
save  her  ;  offering  to  reveal  to  you  the  deception 
she  had  practiced,  in  the  belief  that  it  would  release 
me  ;  earnestly  proposing  to  sacrifice  herself  that  I 
might  be  free  ;  confessing  her  love  for  me,  yet  re- 
fusing to  accept  mine  because  of  the  bar  she  had 
erected  by  her  misdeed,  the  stain  she  had  put  upon 
herself,  she  made  expiation.  And  in  that  act  of 
generous  abnegation  she  showed  herself  to  be  what 
she  is,  a  penitent  woman — purified  by  sacrifice — a 
tender,  loving,  fine  woman.  It  is  nothing  that  I 
loved  her  the  more  for  it.  It  is  nothing  that  I  re- 
fused to  accept  her  dictum.  It  is  nothing  that 
when  she  told  me  her  story  to  end  my  love  for  her, 
I  took  her  in  my  arms  and  vowed  before  the  God 
who  is  the  Judge  of  us  all  that  I  would  love  and 
cherish  her  forever  in  my  heart  of  hearts,  come 
what  there  might  to  her.  I  shall  marry  her,  sir, 
proud  and  happy  to  do  it,  and  I  ask  you  if  it  is 
your  purpose  to  strike  at  John  Gordon  through  his, 
wife  ? " 


STARTLING  NEWS.  213 

"  God  forgive  me,  I  can't,"  cried  the  old  man,  his 
eyes  glistening  with  the  tears  in  them,  his  face  quiver- 
ing with  admiration  for  theloyaland  devoted  young 
man,  strong  in  his  love  and  enthusiasm.  "  1  won't  do 
it.  But  between  her  and  me  all  is  at  an  end.  Take  her 
away,  John,  take  her  away.  I  do  not  want  to  see 
her  again.  And  she  was  so  dear  tome!  She  seemed 
to  make  green  and  pleasant  my  barren  old  age. 
But  take  her  away,  John.  I  will  wait  here  until 
she  has  removed  herself.  I  can  not  go  back  and 
look  at  her  again.  Take  her  away,  John." 

He  rose  and  walked  to  the  window  to  signify  all 
further  discussion  was  at  an  end. 

Jack  stood  where  the  Doctor  had  left  him,  think- 
ing profoundly  for  a  long  time,  and  then  he  said  : 

"  I  will  do  as  you  wish,  Doctor.  I  will  take  her 
away.  Please  remain  here  until  I  return." 

He  hastened  out  and  made  his  way  quickly  to 
Mrs.  Van  Huyn.  He  told  this  lacly  that  a  differ- 
ence, and  he  feared  an  irreparable  one,  had  arisen 
between  Dr.  Sherman  and  Lucy,  and  he  wanted 
her  to  take  care  of  her  for  a  few  days,  until  arrange- 
ments could  be  made  for  her.  He  assured  her 
that  neither  she  nor  Mr.  Van  Huyn  would  incur 
the  enmity  of 'the  Doctor  in  so  doing,  and  that  he 
pledged  himself  to  reconcile  Mr.  Van  Huyn  to 
Lucy's  coming  into  the  house. 

To  this  Mrs.  Van  Huyn  gave  cheerful,  indeed, 
eager  compliance,  saying  she  was  ready  to  receive 
Lucy  at  any  moment.  Jack,  therefore,  hurried  off 
to  accomplish  Lucy's  removal,  which  was  soon  clone, 
and  before  the  night  the  Doctor  returned  to  the 
empty  rooms  feeling  himself  to  be  a  very  lonely, 
forlorn  old  man  as  he  dined  alone. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

EVENTS    PROGRESS    RAPIDLY. 

IT  was  to  be  supposed  that  the  fact  of  an  irrepar- 
able quarrel  between  Lucy  and  her  father,  oc- 
curring so  closely  after  her  engagement  to  Jack, 
would  have  caused  a  great  deal  of  gossip.  There 
was  much  speculation  as  to  its  cause.  The  Doctor 
maintained  a  discreet  silence,  and  of  course  Jack 
and  Lucy  did  not  make  explanations.  Mrs.  Van 
Huyn  maintained  silence  for  the  best  of  reasons, 
she  didn't  know.  For  though  she  had  given  shel- 
ter to  Lucy  gladly,  she  did  not  receive  confidence 
in  return.  To  Mr.  Van  Huyn  Jack  had  said  that 
the  unfortunate  difference  was  wholly  a  family 
matter,  in  which  he,  Jack,  occupied  a  singularly 
contradictory  position.  While  he  could  not  blame 
Dr.  Sherman,  who  certainly  had  a  right  to  form  what 
judgment  he  chose,  and  to  govern  himself  and 
household  as  he  saw  fit,  still  he,  Jack,  sustained 
Lucy  to  the  utmost. 

Mr.  Van  Huyn,  who  knew  the  Doctor  well,  and 
knew  how  firm  he  was  in  having  his  own  way, 
even  inclined  to  use  force  to  accomplish  his  ends, 
thought,  though  Jack  had  not  intended  that  im- 
pression to  be  made,  that  the  Doctor  had  laid  a 
command  upon  Lucy  relative  'to  her  engagement 
with  Jack  with  which  she  refused  to  comply  ;  that 
the  alternative  of  complying  or  leaving  the  Doctor 
having  been  presented  she  accepted  the  latter. 

That  the  difference  had  arisen  over  the  engage- 
ment was  the  unanimously  accepted  version.     In- 
214 


EVENTS  PROGRESS  RAPIDLY.  215 

deed,  it  went  to  the  point  of  the  alleged  discovery 
of  some  peccadillos  of  Jack,  one  of  which  lived  in 
a  cross-street  where  her  bills  were  paid  by  Jack, 
and  who  was  far  too  pretty  to  be  countenanced  by 
virtuous  women.  But  as  Jack  was  extremely  pop- 
ular, and  as  all  this  gossip  contributed  to  turning 
what  otherwise  would  have  been  only  an  ordinary 
engagement  into  a  romance,  the  world  sided  with 
Jack  and  Lucy,  and  heartily  condemned  the  old 
Doctor,  who,  as"  Dizzy  "  Lowell,  true  to  his  friend, 
had  said  in  the  club  one  night,  "  dropped  the  flag 
on  the  youngsters  before  they  had  a  fair  start." 

It  was  fortunate  for  both  that  a  woman  of  the 
standing  of  Mrs.  Van  Huyn  had  thrown  the  mantle 
of  her  partisanship  over  Lucy  by  receiving  her  in 
her  house.  Mrs.  Jamieson,  profoundly  grateful  to 
Jack,  and  inspired  by  her  husband,  settled  every- 
thing for  them  in  the  world  of  fashion,  by  giving  a 
most  distinguished  dinner-party  at  which  Jack  and 
Lucy  were  honored  guests.  All  things,  therefore, 
were  moving  smoothly. 

Jack  knew,  however,  that  affairs  could  not  go  on 
indefinitely  in  this  manner,  and  so  after  many  con- 
sultations, in  which  the  wise  heads  of  their  friends 
Madames  Van  Huyn  and  Jamieson  were  employed, 
the  date,  and  an  early  one,  not  three  weeks  away, 
was  fixed  for  the  wedding. 

This  became  all  the  more  necessary,  in  Jack's 
opinion,  for  the  reason  that  Mr.  Van  Huyn  was 
compelled  to  go  to  Europe  in  a  short  time,  and 
though  his  wife  was  disinclined  to  accompany  him, 
was  strongly  urging  her  to  do  so.  True,  Mrs. 
Jamieson  offered  a  way  out  of  this  difficulty  by  pro- 
posing shelter  for  Lucy  under  her  roof,  but  Jack 
was  not  satisfied  to  have  Lucy  shunted  from  one 
house  to  another.  There  was  only  one  course  to 
pursue  in  his  judgment,  and  that,  an  early  mar- 
riage. In  the  end  all  came  to  his  way  of  thinking. 


216        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

Jack  now  spent  a  great  deal  of  his  time  at  Mrs. 
Van  Huyn's  house.  That  lady  was  as  gracious  as 
could  be  desired.  She  laughingly  said  she  had 
told  Lucy,  the  day  after  she  first  met  Jack,  that 
there  would  be  a  romance,  and  that  she  (Mrs.  Van 
Huyn)  would  be  called  upon  to  preside  over  it.  As 
her  prediction  had  been  verified,  she  would  do  it  in 
the  most  approved  manner. 

Mr.  Van  Huyn's  mansion  was  a  large,  roomy 
house  of  the  extreme  modern  style  on  Madison 
Avenue,  on  a  corner.  At  the  rear  of  the  hall  in 
the  center  of  the  house,  and  between  the  dining- 
room  on  one  side  and  a  conservatory  on  the  other, 
both  of  which  were  extensions  from  the  main  build- 
ing, was  a  small,  cosey  room,  which  Mrs.  Van  Huyn 
had  taken  as  her  own  private  and  special  apart- 
ment. She  called  it  her  office,  for  there  she  attended 
to  her  household  accounts  and  consulted  her  ser- 
vants. After  Lucy  had  come  into  the  house,  she 
had  said  to  Lucy  and  Jack  that  she  would  give  up 
that  room  to  them  in  the  afternoons,  for  there  they 
would  be  free  from  callers  or  interruption  of  any 
kind. 

And  in  this  room  one  afternoon,  ten  days  or 
more  after  the  separation  of  Lucy  and  Dr.  Sher- 
man, we  find  Jack  and  Lucy.  He  had  already 
obtained  possession  of  a  house,  and  was  hastening 
the  preparations  for  their  occupancy  immediately 
after  their  return  from  their  retirement  following 
the  ceremonies.  He  had  been  telling  her,  with  a 
great  deal  of  enthusiasm,  of  Mrs.  Jamieson's  prep- 
arations for  the  reception,  which  that  warm-hearted 
lady  had  determined  should  take  place  at  her  house, 
and  was  now  describing  to  her  the  arrangement  of 
the  rooms  of  their  new  home. 

They  were  thus  pleasantly  engaged,  when  a  card 
was  brought  to  Jack  by  one  of  the  servants.  To 
his  great  surprise  he  read  the  name  of  Captain 


EVENTS  PROGRESS  RAPIDLY.  217 

Lawton.  Somewhat  startled  by  this  disagreeable 
reminder  of  past  events,  he  asked  the  servant  where 
his  visitor  was. 

"  In  the  reception-room,"  was  the  answer. 

On  going  there,  he  found  the  Captain  standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  room,  from  which  point  he 
could  command  a  view  of  the  adjoining  apartments. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  surprised  and  not  very  well 
pleased  to  have  me  follow  you  here,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain, "  but  I  have  been  trying  to  see  you  for  several 
days,  and  as  I  couldn't  see  you  without  coming 
here,  why  I  had  to  come,  that's  all." 

"  Take  a  seat,  Captain,"  said  Jack  in  reply. 
"What's  up  now  ?  " 

Drawing  a  chair  into  the  middle  of  the  room  the 
Captain  sat  down. 

"  You  know  when  I  last  saw  you,"  he  replied,  "  I 
told  you  I  had  figured  it  down  to  seven.  Now,  as 
you  are  a  master  hand  at  cleaning  off  brushwood,  I 
thought,  perhaps,  you  would  give  me  some  further 
assistance." 

"  You  know,"  said  Jack,  "  I  don't  like  to  be  en- 
gaged in  this  sort  of  thing.  I  hoped  I  should  be 
free  from  it  all  by  this  time." 

"  I  know,  Mr.  Gordon,  that  you  don't  like  it," 
replied  the  Captain,  ''  but  this  isn't  asking  you  to 
detect  anybody.  I've  got  seven  on  my  hands  now 
and  the  whole  of  them  bother  me.  Don't  you  see  ? 
There  are  some  suspicious  circumstances  that  point 
to  two  persons.  I  don't  exactly  believe  they  are  into 
it,  or  that  they  even  knew  Renfrew.  But  the  cir- 
cumstances exist,  and  so  long  as  they  do,  and  I 
don't  know  something  to  the  contrary,  why  I  have 
got  to  take  them  into  consideration,  and  they  bother 
me." 

"  I  see.     How  can  I  help  you  ?  " 

"  They  are  two  friends  of  yours." 

"  Oh  !     Well,  what  then  ?  " 


2  1 8        JA  CA'  GORDON,  Ki\7IGLl  7 '  ERR  A  NT. 

"  Well,  if  I  could  get  a  sight  of  their  handwriting 
I  might  know  whether  there  was  any  use  of  count- 
ing them  in." 

"  Who  are  these  ladies  ?  " 

"  Miss  Mary  Lowell  and  Miss  Louise  Appleby." 

Jack  was  startled,  and  his  heart  beat  a  little 
quicker. 

"  Captain,  I  would  wager  my  head,  yes,  my  hap- 
piness, that  you  are  mistaken  about  those  girls.  I 
have  known  them  both  all  my  life.  While  they  are 
rather  dashing  girls  and  somewhat  reckless  in  their 
speech  and  manner,  there  are  not  two  better  girls 
going." 

"  I  would  expect  you  to  say  that,  Mr.  Gordon, 
for  you  are  very  true  to  your  friends." 

"  Let  me  see  those  letters — those  Dollie  Dux 
letters.  Have  you  got  them  with  you  ?  Or  have 
you  abandoned  the  idea  that  the  writer  of  them  is 
the  person  you  want  ?  " 

"  No,  to  both  questions.  I  haven't  the  letters 
with  me.  And  I  haven't  abandoned  that  idea." 

"  But  you  recollect  that  Dollie  Dux  is  a  married1 
woman  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  can't  always  tell,"  replied  the  Cap- 
tain. "  The  person  who  wrote  those  '  Dux'  letters 
is  a  very  cunnin'  person.  She  has  played  a  big 
hand  in  this  here  affair,  and  hasn't  left  a  trace — a 
footstep — behind  her  excepting  those  letters,  and 
they  are  of  the  most  guarded  kind.  The  husband 
may  be  a  stall  for  father  or  brother,  or  what 
not." 

"  I  can't  imagine  either  of  those  girls  writing 
such  letters,"  said  Jack  thoughtfully.  "  However, 
I  am  so  certain  you  are  on  the  wrong  track,  that  I 
will  engage  to  have  specimens  of  their  handwriting 
at  my  rooms,  if  you  will  come  with  the  '  Dollie 
Dux'  letters,  before  two  o'clock  to-morrow." 

"All  right,  Mr.  Gordon,  I'll  be  there.     And  per- 


EVENTS  PROGRESS  RAPIDLY.  219 

haps  then  I'll  have  something  important  to  tell 
you." 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  I  believe  it's  your  rule,  Mr.  Gordon,"  said  the 
detective  slyly,  "  not  to  speak  on  suspicion  ;  you 
wait  until  you  are  sure." 

"  A  very  fair  hit  !  "  laughed  Jack,  and  the  Cap- 
tain went  away. 

Jack  went  back  to  Lucy,  who  asked  what  Captain 
Lawton  wanted. 

"  He's  on  the  wrong  track,  and  is  inclined  to  im- 
plicate  one  or  two  of  our  friends,"  he  replied. 
"  However,  he  is  greatly  mistaken,  I  am  certain. 
Have  you  got  that  letter  signed  '  Dollie  Dux,'  with 
you,  Lucy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  in  my  room  with  my  private  papers." 

"  Would  you  mind  letting  me  see  it  again  ?  " 

"  I'll  get  it,  of  course,"  as  she  sprang  up  to  go 
for  it. 

"  And,  Lucy,"  said  Jack,  "have  you  any  letters 
from  Mollie  Lowell  or  Lou  Appleby  ?  " 

"  Yes.    I  have  several." 

"  Bring  one  or  two  of  those  you  may  properly 
show  me." 

"  I  can  show  you  all  of  them.  There  is  nothing 
in  them  any  one  may  not  see." 

She  ran  away  to  her  room.  Jack  stood  up  be- 
fore the  grate  with  his  hands  behind  him. 

"I  am  afraid  the  Captain  is  grinding  it  down. 
He  is  evidently  working  in  our  field.  I  am 
afraid — 1  am  afraid  there  is  a  frightful  scandal 
brewing." 

Lucy  returned  and  her  face  was  grave;  indeed, 
she  seemed  terrified.  Jack  was  alarmed  by  her 
appearance.  He  took  the  letters  she  handed 
him  hurriedly.  Opening  the  first  he  found  it  to 
be  a  letter  from  Miss  Appleby,  and  laid  it  on 
the  table.  He  searched  for  one  written  by  Miss 


£20        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

Lowell  and  placed  it  beside  the  other.  Then  he 
opened  the  "  Dollie  Dux  "  letter. 

He  laughed  outright. 

"  Why,  Lucy,  you  frightened  me  with  your  long 
face.  There  is  nothing  in  common  between  the 
fine,  long,  and  elegant  penmanship  of  this  '  Dollie 
Dux  '  letter,  and  the  rapid  scrawl,  all  ways  for  Sun- 
day, of  Moliie's,  and  the  huge,  masculine  strokes  of 
Lou." 

He  looked  up  at  her  greatly  relieved. 

But  the  terrified  expression  had  not  left  her 
face. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  !  "  he  cried  in  alarm,  "  what 
is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  I've  recognized  the  writing  of  that  letter,"  she 
said,  faintly,  laying  her  hand  upon  the  one  signed 
"  Dollie  Dux." 

"  Hush!  Don't  mention  a  name,"  said  Jack,  her 
horror  communicated  to  him.  "  Are  you  certain  ? 
Are  you  not  mistaken  ?  " 

"  I  can't  be.  See."  She  drew  from  her  pocket 
another  letter  and  placed  it  beside  'the  one  signed 
"  Dollie  Dux."  There  could  be  no  failure  to  rec- 
ognize the  similarity.  It  required  no  expert  to 
determine  it.  The  same  long,  slim,  peculiar  pen- 
manship, the  same  characteristics  and  tricks  of  the 
flourishes.  There  was  absolutely  no  doubt. 

Jack  turned  over  to  the  signature.  He  gave  a 
great  start.  He  looked  at  Lucy,  and  she  was  look- 
ing appealingly  to  him. 

"  Oh,  Jack,  this  is  terrible!" 

"  It  is  horrible — horrible.  Who  would  have 
dreamt  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Jack,  dear,  can't  something  be  done  to 
save  her  ? " 

"  By  Heaven  !  something  must  be  done.  She 
must  be  saved." 

Just   then   they  heard   Mrs.  Van    Huyn  calling 


EVENTS  PROGRESS  RAPIDLY.        221 

Lucy,  and  had  barely  time  to  put  the  letters  out 
of  sight  before  she  entered. 

(i  I  think  you  have  billed  and  cooed  enough  for 
one  day,  and  I've  come  to  put  an  end  to  it.  Why, 
what  is  the  matter,  you  both  look  terrified  ?  " 

"  We  have  just  sustained  a  severe  shock  over 
some  news  of  a  dear  friend  of  ours,"  replied  Jack-. 

"  Indeed,  I  hope  nothing  serious  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  is  in  great  danger." 

"  A  lady  ?  Can  you  help  her  ?  If  you  can,  do  so, 
for  dear  friends  are  scarce  in  this  world." 

Lucy,  her  eyes  wet  with  tears,  went  over  and 
kissed  her  tenderly,  saying  : 

"  We  have  had  a  dear,  dear  friend  in  you." 

"  We  will  do  what  we  can  for  her,"  said  Jack. 
"  Lucy,  I  think  I  will  call  on  the  Doctor.  I  hear  he 
is  not  right  well." 

Notwithstanding  the  reports  that  Jack's  pecca- 
dillos were  at  the  bottom  of  the  difference  between 
Lucy  and  her  adopted  father,  he  let  few  days 
goby  without  calling  upon  the  Doctor — almost  daily, 
in  fact. 

"  Ah,  do,  Jack,  and  if  he  is  seriously  ill  let  me 
know." 

"  But  you  are  not  going  before  dinner,  Mr.  Gor- 
don ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  he  laughed.  "  If  I  take  more  meals 
in  this  house,  I  would  better  bring  my  clothes  and 
domicile  myself  here  entirely." 

Lucy  followed  him  out  of  the  apartment,  and  he 
found  opportunity  to  whisper  to  her  : 

"  Not  a  word  to  Mrs.  Van  Huyn  !  " 

"  No,  indeed,  not  a  word." 

She  went  back  again  to  chat  with  her  hostess. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

THE   DOCTOR   PHILOSOPHIZES     ON     WRONG-DOING. 

WHEN  Jack  was  shown  into  Dr.  Sherman's 
room,  he  found  the  doctor  lying  upon  the 
lounge  quite  unwell  and  unusually  glad  to  see 
him.  Apart  from  the  real  liking  he  had  for  the  old 
gentleman,  he  hoped  and  argued  from  the  fact  that 
he  was  always  received  with  warm  cordiality,  that 
the  Doctor  could  be  brought  to  a  point  where  he 
would  forgive  Lucy  her  deception. 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  have  come  to  see  me,"  said 
the  Doctor.  "  I  am  very  lonely.  I  have  been  prac- 
tically alone  all  day." 

"That  ought  not  to  be,"  replied  Jack.  "Had  I 
known  earlier  you  were  ill,  I  should  have  been  here 
before." 

"  Thank  you,  John,"  said  the  old  gentleman 
simply. 

Jack  chatted  away  with  him  for  along  time,  but 
was  conscious  that  the  old  gentleman  did  not  give 
him  close  attention.  He  seemed  to  be  busy  with 
his  own  thoughts.  Jack  at  length  stopped  talking  ; 
the  Doctor  did  not  notice  it.  After  a  long  interval 
of  silence,  the  Doctor  spoke  : 

"  John,  I  think  you  are  a  better  man  than  I  am." 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Jack  laughing,  "  I  rather  think 
I'd  have  the  best  of  you  in  a  boxing  or  wrestling 
match.  There  is  some  difference  in  our  ages  and 
weights — in  my  favor." 

The  old  gentleman  laughed  heartily  at  Jack's 
willful  misapprehension. 


THE  DOCTOR   ON  WRONG-DOING.          22$ 

"  I  don't  mean  that,  John,"  he  replied.  "  I  think 
there  is  more  charity  in  your  soul  than  there  is  in 
mine.  I  think  you  look  with  a  more  kindly  and 
generous  eye  upon  the  faults  of  others." 

"  If  I  do,"  answered  Jack,  "  it  must  be  because 
I  have  so  many  of  my  own,  I  want  charity  for  my- 
self." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that  either.  I  think  you 
have  a  good  heart — are  naturally  inclined  to  defend 
rather  than  attack  people.  And  I  think  also  you 
have  that  mental  qualification  which  enables  you  to 
weigh  exactly  the  wrong — its  extent  and  degree." 

Jack  did  not  follow  the  old  Doctor  clearly,  but 
he  knew  he  was  getting  to  a  point  of  some  impor- 
tance. 

"  I  have  been  examining  myself  since  I  have 
been  lying  here,  John,  and  I  am  quite  satisfied  that 
one-half,  if  not  fully  three-quarters,  of  the  indigna- 
tion I  felt  against  Lucy  was  not  because  she  had 
committed  a  wrongful  act,  but  because  it  had  been 
committed  against  me.  Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
what  was  wrong  in  her  act  was  wrong  because  of 
it,  not  because  it  was  committed  against  me.  Yet 
that  is  not  the  way  most  people  measure  wrong. 
I  am  inclined  to  believe  I  do  not.  I  think  you  do. 
It  is  astonishing  how  a  wrong  which  you  have  re- 
garded as  a  great  one  shrivels  up  when  you  view  it 
from  that  standpoint." 

It  was  undoubtedly  very  stupid  of  Jack  not  to 
realize  the  drift  of  the  old  man's  philosophizing, 
but  he  didn't.  He  contented  himself  with  saying  : 

"  I  presume  that  is  so,  sir." 

The  Doctor  was  silent  again,  apparently  lost  in 
thought,  and  Jack  let  him  meditate.  After  a  while 
the  Doctor  spoke  : 

"  I've  been  thinking  of  another  thing  too.  I 
have  been  thinking  that,  contrary  to  the  usual 
teaching,  it  is  much  harder  to  repair  by  confession 


224        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

the  consequences  of  wrong  than  it  is  to  refrain  from 
its  original  commission.  There  is  the  shame,  the 
humiliation,  the  fear  of  the  unknown  consequences 
attending  the  confession,  and  the  influence  of  one's 
environments,  the  fact  that  the  next  day  is  as  good 
a  day  as  the  present  one  ;  and  so  delay  succeeds 
postponement,  and  postponement  delay,  each  day 
the  confession  being  made  more  and  more  difficult. 
Interests,  affections,  and  what  not,  perhaps  am- 
bitions, all  spring  up  to  delay  and  restrain  it." 

The  old  man  relapsed  into  silence  again,  and 
Jack  sat  watching  him  closely,  speaking  never  a 
word  to  interrupt  the  current  of  his  thoughts. 

"  Then  how  easy  it  is  to  commit  a  fault  !  '  con- 
tinued the  Doctor.  "  People  who  have  not  been 
subjected  to  great  temptation  can  not  realize  how 
circumstances  will  force  a  person  into  wrong-doing. 
Sometimes  one  is  just  trembling  on  the  brink,  the 
wrong  word  at  the  right  moment  urges  them  over, 
or  the  right  word  at  the  right  moment  restrains  them. 
Do  you  ever  read  Hugo's  'Les  Miserables,'  John  ? 
It's  a  great  book.  It  preaches  a  great  sermon. 
You  remember  how  the  circumstance  of  the  star- 
vation of  his  sister's  children  forced  Jean  Valjean 
into  the  crime  of  theft  of  bread  for  them  ?  In  the 
goodness  of  his  heart  and  full  of  divine  pity  he 
committed  that  theft.  You  remember,  too,  how 
after  having  gone  down  in  the  depths,  crushed  into 
darkness  of  soul  by  the  tyranny  of  law,  he  is  lifted 
up  and  light  given  him  by  that  lie  of  the  Bishop? 
Ah,  John,  there  are  some  lies  that  are  not  wrong. 
They  are  blessed  acts.  One  should  be  charitable, 
should  be  broad  with  the  faults  of  the  young. 
Instead  of  crushing  them  down  with  punishment, 
they  should  take  them  by  the  hand,  lead  them 
toward  the  light — forgiving.  The  spirit  of  forgive- 
ness and  of  broad  charity, — that  is  the  beautiful 
thing  about  our  Christ." 


THE  DOCTOR   ON  WRONG-DOING.          225 

He  was  silent  again,  and  Jack  did  not  interrupt 
his  silence. 

"For  instance,  Lucy  was  undoubtedly  sorely 
tempted.  The  situation  in  which  she  stood  was  a 
trying,  nay  a  terrible,  one  for  a  young,  unformed 
girl,  whose  mind  had  not  had  that  training  it  would 
have  had  had  she  been  possessed  of  a  mother. 
Yet  I  doubt  if  she  would  have  committed  that 
wrong  had  it  not  been  for  the  tempter  who  stood 
beside  her  to  say  the  wrong  word  at  the  right 
moment.  I  was  very  fond  of  her,  John." 

He  ceased  talking  again.  And  Jack  did  not 
reply.  Presently  the  old  gentleman  struggled  to  a 
sitting  posture  and  cried  most  irritably  : 

"  Why  don't  you  speak,  John  ?  I  am  sick.  I 
am  lonely.  D —  it,  can't  you  see  ?  I  want  Lucy." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  see.  I've  been  waiting  to  hear  you 
say  so." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  bring  her  to  me  ?  What 
are  you  delaying  for  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  she  shall  be  here  to-morrow  morning," 
replied  Jack,  "  early,  if  you  will  give  me  your 
word  that  you  will  make  it  easy  for  her  to  come  to 
you  ;  that  you  will  not  upbraid  her  with  bitter 
words  ;  but  will  receive  her  repentance  with  ten- 
derness." 

"  Oh,  John,  I  want  her  !  I  don't  want  to  find  any 
fault.  I  don't  want  to  blame  her.  I  want  her  ten- 
der, sweet  face  about  me  again.  Go  and  bring  her, 
John.  Bring  her  early.  Tell  her  that  you  bear 
my  full  forgiveness." 

"  Doctor,  I  never  bore  a  message  with  greater 
gladness.  The  cup  of  my  happiness  is  full  to  run- 
ning over.  We  are  to  be  married  on  the  twenty- 
third,  and  I  dearly  hoped  that  this  might  occur 
before  that  event.  After  that  we  go  to  live  in  our 
own  house,  and  in  that  house  there  is  a  corner  for 
you." 


226        JACK  GORDON,   KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

He  wrung  the  old  man's  hand  and  hastened 
away  with  the  glad  news  to  Lucy. 

There  were  friends  of  the  family  at  the  house, 
whom  Lucy  was  assisting  Mrs.  Van  Huyn  to 
entertain,  and  when  Jack  made  his  appearance  with 
his  beaming  face,  she  knew  something  glad  had 
occurred. 

So  entirely  unlike  himself  was  he  in  his  want  of 
repose  and  composure,  that  she  finally  said  to  him  : 

"  Jack,  you  have  some  great  news." 

"  Yes.  Great  indeed  for  you.  And  I  know  Mrs. 
Van  Huyn  will  excuse  you  while  I  communicate  it." 

They  went  off  together  to  the  room  Mrs.  Van 
Huyn  had  assigned  them,  and  there,  to  Lucy's 
great  joy  and  satisfaction,  she  learned  that  she  had 
become  necessary  to  the  Doctor  and  that  he  desired 
her  return, — that  he  had  asked  it  without  being 
solicited. 

"Now,"  said  Jack,  "  I  want  you  to  write  your 
sweetest  note  to  the  Doctor.  Write  it  in  a  peni- 
tent spirit,  and  I  promise  you  you  will  never  hear 
from  any  one  again  a  word  about  Lucy's  fault." 

"  Lucy's  crime,  Jack,  for  such  it  was,"  she  said. 
"Yes,  I'll  doit." 

"  Where's  the  paper?"  said  Jack,  getting  up  and 
searching  over  the  table  in  the  center  of  the  room. 

"  There,  in  that  old-fashioned  secretary  in  the 
corner.  Lift  up  the  cover  and  you  will  find  it  in  a 
drawer." 

"  But  which  one  ?  "  said  Jack  ;  "  there  are  a  lot  of 
them." 

"  The  one  which  is  not  locked.  All  the  rest  are 
locked  but  the  paper  drawer." 

Jack  pulled  at  one  and  the  other,  and  in  fum- 
bling about  touched  the  spring  of  a  secret  drawer, 
and  it  flew  out. 

"  Heavens  !  "  said  Jack,  as  he  caught  a  glimpse 
of  its  contents. 


THE  DOCTOR   ON  WRONG-DOING.          227 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Lucy. 

"  Nothing,"  he  said  with  altered  voice,  as  he 
closed  it  up  quickly.  "  I  have  stumbled  upon  a 
private  drawer,  and  got  into  things  I  ought  not  to 
have  done.  Ah,  here's  the  paper." 

He  brought  it  to  her,  and  they  busied  themselves 
with  the  composition  of  the  letter  which  was  to  be 
the  beginning  of  the  reconciliation  between  Dr. 
Sherman  and  Lucy. 


CHAPTER  .XXVII. 

A    BAFFLED    DETECTIVE. 

QUITE  early  in  the  morning  following  the 
events  described  in  the  last  chapter,  Jack 
accompanied  Lucy  from  the  residence  of  Mrs. 

Van  Huyn  to  the  B hotel,  where  Dr.  Sherman 

anxiously  awaited  her.  He  walked  with  her  as  far 
as  the  door  of  their  rooms  and  left  her,  discreetly 
refusing  to  be  a  witness  of  the  reconciliation. 

Hastening  back -to  his  own  apartments,  he  barely 
had  time  to  don  his  lounging  jacket  and  draw  a 
writing-table  close  to  the  grate  fire,  for  the  morn- 
ing was  cold,  before  Captain  Lawton's  card  was 
presented. 

"  You  are  prompt,  Captain,"  said  Jack,  after  he 
had  exchanged  greetings  with  his  visitor.  "  I 
have  kept  my  word  and  have  the  letters." 

"  I  have  brought  the  '  Dollie  Dux '  letters," 
replied  the  detective,  taking  from  an  inner  pocket 
the  dainty  little  missives  of  the  unknown  "Dollie," 
folded  the  long  way  of  the  paper  and  confined  by 
a  small  rubber  band.  He  removed  the  elastic  ring, 
laying  the  letters  in  front  of  Jack,  and  drew  up  a 
chair  to.  the  table. 

"  This  is  a  matter  quickly  disposed  of,"  said 
Jack.  "  It  is,  as  I  said,  folly'  to  endeavor  to  con- 
nect those  girls  with  this  affair." 

He  took  from  the  table  the  two  letters  Lucy  had 
given  him  the  night  previous,  and  spread  them 
before  the  detective. 

?28 


A    BAFFLED  DETECTIVE.  229 

Captain  Lavvton  opened  one  of  the  "  Dollie  Dux  " 
letters  and  placed  it  beside  the  two. 

He  smiled  as  he  looked. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  it  is  plain.  The  writings  are 
not  the  same.  That  lets  them  out." 

"  If  you  knew  the  young  ladies  you  would  know 
that  neither  of  them  could  have  written  the  letters 
if  they  had  tried.  But  may  I  ask  why  you  sus- 
pected them  ? " 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  Captain  slowly,  "  you 
would  say  upon  insufficient  basis.  About  two 
weeks  before  the  murder,  at  a  Saturday  afternoon 
matinee,  these  two  young  ladies  occupied  a  box  at 
the  theater  where  Renfrew  was  playing,  and  amused 
themselves  and  the  company  on  the  stage,  so  an 
actor  told  me,  with  wildly  flirting  with  that  fellow." 
Then,  suddenly  breaking  off,  he  said  :  "  You  are 
mistaken  about  ladies  of  society  not  using  pat. 
chouli — it  seems  to  me  they  all  do  more  or  less. 
These  two  young  ladies  do  occasionally." 

He  pushed  the  letters  of  Miss  Lowell  and  Miss 
Appleby  across  the  table  to  Jack,  and  laid  the  letter 
of  "  Dollie  Dux "  he  held  in  his  hand  with  its 
fellows.  Jack  was  for  the  moment  lost  in  thought 
and  did  not  notice  the  act,  nor  that  the  detective 
took  from  his  pocket  a  small  wallet,  from  which  he 
drew  a  narrow  slip  of  paper. 

"  The  murderer  is  now  figured  down  to  five," 
continued  the  detective,  ''and  I'm  betting  that  the 
name  of  the  one  I'm  looking  for  is  one  of  the  three 
on  that  paper." 

He  laid  it  immediately  in  front  of  Jack,  who 
picked  it  up  mechanically  and  read  the  names. 

He  burst  into  laughter. 

"  Captain,"  he  cried,  "  you  select  strangely  for 
your  suspicions.  I  think  if  you  had  every  woman's 
name  in  New  York  to  select  from,  you  could  not  have 
chosen  three  less  likely  to  be  placed  under  sus- 


230        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

picion.  Within  three  weeks  I  have  dined  at  the 
house  of  each  of  these  ladies.  I  must  have  their 
letters  somewhere." 

He  crossed  the  room  to  a  desk  standing  between 
the  windows,  and  tumbled  the  papers  which  littered 
it  about  in  his  search.  The  detective  watched  him 
slyly. 

Presently  he  returned,  bearing  three  letters  with 
him. 

"  To  be  sure,"  he  said,  "  the  penmanship  of 
these  is  more  like  that  of  *  Dollie  Dux'  tnan  Miss 
Appleby's  or  Miss  Lowell's  ;  yet  so  different  you 
need  not  be  an  expert  to  determine,  at  a  glance, 
how  absurd  it  is  to  attempt  to  find  '  Dollie  Dux ' 
among  the  writers  of  them." 

The  Captain  examined  them  with  great  care. 
He  laid  them  on  the  table,  saying  simply  : 

<4  And  yet  they  all  use  patchouli." 

"I  fear,  Captain,"  said  Jack,  laughing,  "you  are 
off  the  scent  while  following  scent." 

The  detective  grinned  over  the  joke,  but  did  not 
reply.  He  compared  them  again.  With  a  sigh  he 
pushed  them  aside. 

"  That  disposes  of  three  more,"  he  said. 

Jack  started  at  this  remark,  and  turned  an 
inquiring  look  upon  the  detective. 

Captain  Lawton  wrote  deliberately  two  names  on 
a  blank  piece  of  paper,  and  pushed  the  slip  in  front 
of  Jack. 

"  Then  it  must  be  one  of  those  two  names,"  he 
said,  eyeing  Jack  keenly. 

Jack  laid  his  hand  upon  the  slip  without  looking 
at  the  names. 

"  Captain,"  he  said,  sternly  but  calmly,  "  you 
are  a  shrewd  man — a  very  shrewd  man — you  have 
laid  a  cunning  trap  for  me,  and  I  nearly  put  my 
foot  in  it.  By  this  process  of  exhaustion  you  are 
making  me  your  aid  to  detection.  By  reason  of 


A    BAFFLED   DETECTIVE.  231 

my  anxiety  to  protect  those  from  suspicion  I  knew 
could  not  be  implicated,  you  have  succeeded  in 
getting  me  to  eliminate  one  after  another,  until  you 
have  gotten  down  to  two.  Now,  if  it  should 
appear  on  reading  these  names  that  again  I  saw 
one  I  was  quite  certain  ought  to  be  free  from  sus- 
picion, you  leave  me  in  the  position  of  having 
charged  the  other  with  being  the  person  you  want. 
It  is  a  cunning  game,  but  it  must  end  right  here. 
I  won't  go  with  you  another  step.  You  charged 
me  some  time  ago  with  having  treated  you  unfairly. 
I  acknowledged  the  charge,  and  by  my  considerate 
treatment  of  you  have  tried  to  show  regret  for  my 
bad  manners.  I  think  now  you  are  open  to  the 
charge." 

"  I  don't  think  so,  Mr.  Gordon,"  replied  the 
detective  ;  "  it  is  for  you  to  choose  whether  or  not 
you  will  express  an  opinion.  It  is  in  your  own 
hands." 

"  Yes,  but,  Captain,"  persisted  Jack,  "  your  trap 
was  laid  all  the  same.  You  expected  me  to  read 
the  names  and  cry  out  that  one,  at  least,  did  not 
do  it.  I  can  not  help  what  the  consequences  may 
be,  or  who  may  get  hurt,  I  shall  have  nothing  more 
to  say  on  the  subject.  Your  trick  is  a  sharp  one, 
and  nearly  succeeded." 

The  Captain  smiled  his  inscrutable  smile  again. 
Jack  picked  up  the  paper  and  read  the  names.  He 
gave  a  start,  which  he  quickly  repressed,  but  not 
so  quickly  that  the  Captain  did  not  observe  it.  He 
smiled  again.  Jack  laid  the  slip  of  paper  down  ; 
his  face  bore  a  troubled  expression. 

"Well,"  said  the  detective. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say,"  said  Jack  doggedly. 

"You  were  surprised  to  see  one  name  on  that 
list?" 

"To  see  both  of  them." 

"  See  here,  Mr.  Gordon,  this  has  been  a  particu- 


232        JACK  GOKDOX,  KXIGHT  ERRAXT. 

larly  hard  case  for  me,  and  I  have  worked  in  the 
dark  from  the  beginning.  I  need  assistance,  and 
I  think  I  can  give  you  good  reasons  why  you 
ought  to  assist  me." 

Jack  looked  at  him  coldly. 

"You  see,"  said  the  detective,  settling  himself 
back  in  his  chair  and  looking  over  Jack  into  the 
bright  fire  in  the  grate.  "  You  see,  you  told  me 
Renfrew's  right  name  was  Jacob  Myers  ;  that  he 
was  a  cousin  of  Miss  Sherman's  ;  that  she  went  to 
school  at  Rocky  Point ;  and  that  these  people  came 
from  about  Cornwall." 

He  cast  a  glance  at  Jack,  who  was  regarding  him 
with  a  moody  face. 

"  I  made  some  inquiries,"  continued  the  detective, 
"  up  in  that  country,  and  found  some  people  who 
knew  Miss  Sherman's  parents  and  Myers  as  well. 
I  learned  something  about  Dr.  Sherman's  young 
days." 

"  Well,"  replied  Jack  irritably,  "  and  what  has 
all  that  to  do  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  was  in  those  letters  Miss  Sher- 
man wrote  to  Renfrew,  and  why  she  didn't  want  Dr. 
Sherman  to  know." 

He  looked  hard  at  Jack,  who  had  thrust  his 
hands  deep  in  his  pockets  and  was  staring  the  table 
out  of  countenance.  Receiving  no  reply  the  Cap- 
tain went  on,  and,  as  Jack  acknowledged,  he  had 
gathered  the  truth. 

"Well?  "he  said  aloud. 

"  I've  no  call  to  tell  that  story  to  Dr.  Sherman, 
but  if  I  don't  you  ought  to  consider  I  don't  do  so 
because  of  a  friendly  feeling  to  }rou.  And  that  is  a 
friendly  act  that  ought  to  be  repaid  by  you  in  as- 
sisting me." 

"  You're  climbing  the  wrong  tree,  Captain,"  said 
Jack,  rousing  up.  "  You  couldn't  tell  Dr.  Sherman 
anything  he  doesn't  know  now," 


A    BAFFLED  DETECTIVE.  ^33 

It  was  the  Captain's  turn  to  be  surprised. 

"  How  is  that  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  After  I  found  out  what  the  secret  was,  which 
being  possessed  by  Renfrew  gave  him  power  over 
Miss  Sherman,  I  insisted  that  the  Doctor  should  be 
told.  It  has  been  told  him  without  reservation,  and 
he  has  forgiven  everything." 

The  Captain  had  played  the  last  card  in  his  Hand, 
the  one  he  had  reserved  for  a  great  stroke,  and  to 
his  manifest  disappointment  he  found  it  was  not  a 
trump.  His  chance  of  success  lay  in  obtaining 
Gordon's  willing  or  unwilling  assistance.  He  had 
tried  to  secure  it  by  force,  by  persuasion,  by  trickery, 
and  finally  through  an  appeal  to  Gordon's  selfish 
interests.  He  had  failed  in  all.  What  course 
should  he  now  pursue  ?  On  the  table  lay  a  dis- 
orderly little  pile  of  papers,  notes  and  letters. 
Thinking  deeply,  lost  to  his  surroundings  for  a 
moment,  almost  unconscious  of  his  act,  he  stretched 
forth  his  hand  and  pulled  out  the  sheet  lying  under 
all  and  placed  it  on  the  top  of  the  pile  ;  he  con- 
tinued to  take  the  under  sheet  and  place  it  on  the 
top  mechanically,  and  thus  bid  fair  in  time  to 
make  every  sheet  the  under  one  and  top  one 
in  turn. 

Jack  watched  him  with  a  dissatisfied  expression. 
He  was  by  no  means  pleased  to  learn  that  the  de- 
tective was  in  possession  of  Lucy's  secret.  He  had 
believed  it  confined  to  Lucy,  Dr.  Sherman,  and 
himself.  Now  a  fourth  knew  it.  Who  would  be 
the  fifth  ?  And  the  sixth  ?  The  prospect  was  not 
agreeable.  He  thought  the  detective  was  a  med- 
dlesome rascal  who  ought  to  be  suppressed.  He 
had  trusted  Lawton  and  had  been  betrayed.  In 
short  Jack  was  very  angry  with  the  detective  and 
was  meditating  revenge. 

While  he  was  thus  thinking  and  chafing,  he 
watched  the  detective  playing  with  the  papers. 


234        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

The  Captain,  still  absorbed  in  thought,  drew   out  a 
sheet  on  which  something  was  written. 

They  both  started  at  the  same  moment. 

Each  had  recognized  the  penmanship. 

The  Captain  leaped  to  his  feet  and  carried  the 
paper  to  the  window,  where  there  was  better  light. 

Jack  followed,  thoroughly  frightened,  and  looked 
over  his  shoulder. 

It  read  : 

"  Monday,  Oct.  16. 

"  DEAR  MR.  GORDON  : — My  husband  desires  me  to  write 
you  to  say  he  would  be  glad  to  have  you  to  dinner  on  Thurs- 
dry,  the  iSth,  to  meet  Mr. " 

Here  it  ended,  the  sheet  having  been  torn  across 
the  page. 

The  detective  hastily  turned  the  leaf,  but  the 
rest  of  the  paper  was  blank.  The  signature  evi- 
dently had  been  on  the  first  page. 

Jack  breathed  more  freely. 

"  That  is  the  same  hand  as  the  '  Dollie  Dux  ' 
letters,"  asserted  the  Captain.  "  Who  -wrote  that 
letter?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Jack  steadily.  "  I've  for- 
gotten." 

"  That  isn't  likely,"  replied  the  detective  sternly. 

"  You  see  I  have  so  many  invitations  I  can't  be 
expected  to  remember  all  who  write  to  me,"  replied 
Jack. 

"  Humph  !  I  must  have  the  other  part  of  that 
letter." 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  will  get  it,"  replied 
Jack  warmly. 

"  I  do.  I  shall  take  it,"  said  the  Captain,  turning 
quickly  to  go  to  the  table. 

Jack,  divining  his  purpose,  sprang  to  the  table, 
reached  it  first,  and  faced  the  Captain. 

"  You  will  recollect,"  said  Jack  fiercely,  "  that 
these  are  my  private  papers." 


A    BAFFLED  DETECTIVE.  235 

"  Stand  aside  and  let  me  do  my  duty,"  demanded 
the  detective. 

"  I'll  have  no  interference  with  my  affairs,"  an- 
swered Jack,  very  pale  and  very  angry. 

"  I'll  have  no  interference  with  me,"  was  the 
Captain's  reply.  "  Get  out  of  my  way." 

Jack  did  not  move.  The  Captain  took  him  by 
the  shoulders  in  an  attempt  to  thrust  him  aside. 

The  unexpected  happened.  As  is  often  the  case 
with  athletic  men,  the  Captain  underrated  his 
antagonist. 

He  felt  himself  lifted  and  shot  through  the  air. 
He  fell  in  a  corner,  astonished. 

He  recovered  himself  quickly,  however,  but  only 
in  time  to  see  Jack  sweep  the  contents  of  the  table 
into  the  grate,  and  the  papers  blaze  up  fiercely. 

With  an  oath  he  made  a  rush  toward  the  grate, 
intending  to  rescue  what  he  could,  but  Jack  met 
him  and  pinioned  him  by  the  arms  so  that  he  could 
not  move. 

As  powerful  a  man  as  was  the  Captain,  he  was  as 
putty  in  the  hands  of  Jack,  nerved  to  superhuman 
effort  by  intense  anger.  The  detective  was  as- 
tounded at  the  strength  of  the  younger  man. 

"  I  am  a  patient  man,"  said  Jack  between  his 
teeth,  "  but  you  must  behave  yourself  here.  These 
are  my  rooms  and  everything  in  them  mine.  And, 
by  Heaven  !  if  you  touch  anything  here,  you'll  never 
touch  anything  again." 

By  this  time  the  blaze  caused  by  the  burning 
papers  had  subsided.  Nothing  was  left  but  a  heap 
of  black  ashes. 

Jack  released  the  Captain. 

Both  men  were  angry.  Jack  was  the  more  angry 
of  the  two.  They  stood  glaring  at  each  other. 

"  Who  murdered  Renfrew  ?  You  know,"  sternly, 
nay  fiercely,  demanded  Captain  Lawton. 

"  I  don't.     If  I  did  I  wouldn't  tell  you." 


23<>        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

"I  ought  to  put  you  under  arrest." 

"  Don't  try  it.  1  am  in  no  mood  to  be  trifled 
with." 

"  Do  you  call  it  trifling  to  do  one's  duty  ? "  asked 
the  Captain,  the  first  to  regain  possession  of  him- 
self. "  This  is  a  serious  thing  you  have  done  to- 
day— you  have  willfully  obstructed 'the  course  of 
justice  and  the  law." 

"  Don't  preach  to  me.  I  won't  have  it,"  cried 
Jack,  still  trembling  with  anger  and  thoroughly 
enraged.  "  Leave  the  room.  Leave  it  before  I 
do  you  harm." 

"  Yes  I'll  leave  it,  but  you  will  hear  from  me 
shortly,  and  in  a  way  you  won't  like,"  said  the  de- 
tective. "  Give  me  those  letters  I  brought  here." 

He  went  to  the  table.  There  was  nothing  what- 
ever upon  it.  The  letters  were  gone. 

"  Where  are  those  letters  ?  "  he  cried,  turning 
upon  Jack  in  alarm,  his  anger  blazing  up  again. 

'"Burned  I  expect,"  replied  Jack,  surprise  at 
their  loss  doing  more  to  calm  him  than  anything 
else. 

Captain  Lawton  looked  hastily  under  the  table 
and  on  the  hearth.  Jack  assisted  him.  They  were 
nowhere  to  be  found.  Jack  felt  an  unholy  joy 
over  their  loss,  and  this  joy  presently  put  him  in 
entire  possession  of  himself. 

Becoming  satisfied  that  they  were  indeed  burned 
when  Jack  had  hastily  swept  everything  from  the 
table  into  the  fire,  he  turned  to  Jack  so  angry  that 
the  words  fairly  hissed  as  he  uttered  them. 

"  My  fine  young  fellow,  you  will  have  to  account 
for  this  in  a  place  where  your  impudence  won't  do 
you  any  good." 

"  Poof ! " 

"  I've  seen  higher  heads  than  yours  knocked 
under,  and,  by  high  Heaven  !  you'll  have  to  answer 
for  this." 


A    BAFFLED  DETECTIVE.  237 

"  Put  a  bridle  on  that  tongue  of  yours,"  answered 
Jack,  angry  again.  "  If  you  had  not  attempted  to 
rob  me  of  my  papers  your  letters  would  be  safe 
now.  You've  attempted  to  bulldoze  me  before 
and  failed.  Don't  try  a  second  time.  You  may 
fare  worse.  There's  the  door.  Get  out." 

The  detective  saw  the  rising  anger  of  the  other, 
and  though  he  was  by  no  means  a  coward,  his 
commonsense  assured  him  nothing  was  to  be 
gained  by  prolonging  an  angry  discussion. 

He  went  to  the  door,  and  paused  to  say  : 

"  You've  baffled  me  now.  But  I'll  beat  you  in 
the  end,  Mr.  John  Gordon.  Take  care  you  are  not 
made  a  party  to  this  crime." 

"  Leave  the  room." 

The  detective  passed  out,  deep  disappointment 
in  his  heart. 

It  took  Jack  a  long  time  to  cool  down,  but  when 
he  was  composed  enough  to  realize  just  what  he 
had  done,  he  acknowledged  that  he  had  gone  too 
far  and  that  in  all  probability  he  had  made  trouble 
for  himself. 

As  be  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  trying  to 
imagine  what  effect  it  would  have  upon  him  and 
whether  it  was  likely  to  interfere  with  his  marriage, 
which  had  been  that  day  announced,  he  saw  a  piece 
of  paper  protruding  from  under  the  cover  of  his 
desk  between  the  windows.  He  pulled  it  out. 

It  was  the  other  half  of  the  letter,  the  endeavor 
to  obtain  possession  of  which  had  caused  the 
quarrel  with  Captain  Lawton.  The  half  Captain 
Lawton  had  found  lay  on  the  floor,  where  he  had 
dropped  it  in  the  struggle. 

Jack  picked  it  up  and  threw  them  both  deliber- 
ately in  the  fire. 

"  I  won't  be  tempted  now  to  placate  the  Captain. 
What  a  lucky  thing  it  was  I  swept  those  '  Dollie 
Dux'  letters  into  the  fire!  With  the  other  thing 


238        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

out  of  the  way,  detection  is  now  well-nigh  impos- 
sible." 

He  threw  himself  in  a  chair,  lost  in  thought  for 
a  long  time.  He  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance 
of  his  man  Crimmins.  This  aroused  him,  and  he 
jumped  up,  saying  : 

"  Now  to  dress  and  go  to  Lucy  before  anything 
interferes." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

OBLIGATIONS    OF    FRIENDSHIP. 

WHEN  Jack  was  shown  into  the  Sherman 
parlor,  an  hour  after  his  warm  interview  with 
Captain  Lawton,  all  traces  of  his  own  heat 
had  disappeared.  The  Doctor  and  Lucy  were  con- 
versing pleasantly,  nothing  apparent  to  indicate 
that  a  rupture  between  them  had  necessitated  a 
reconciliation.  Having  talked  agreeably  with  them 
for  some  time,  Jack  said  : 

"  Lucy,  I  came  to  ask  you  to  call  with  me  upon 
Mrs.  Van  Huyn.  I  do  not  think  we  have  made 
proper  recognition  of  her  kindness." 

"  If  you  think  so,"  said  the  Doctor,  who  was  one 
of  the  most  punctilious  of  men,  "  you  should  do  so 
without  delay." 

So  Lucy,  glad  to  have  some  moments  alone  with 
Jack,  ran  off  to  prepare  herself  for  a  walk. 

On  their  way  Jack  told  Lucy  the  story  of  his 
stormy  passage  with  Captain  Lawton,  and  expressed 
the  fear  that  the  consequences  might  be  serious.- 
It  was  true,  he  said,  that  he  did  not  believe  Cap- 
tain Lawton  to  be  a  vindictive  man,  but  his  pride 
was  evidently  enlisted  in  the  search  for  the  mur- 
derer of  Renfrew,  and  he  feared  the  detective 
would  not  take  kindly  the  accident  which  had 
deprived  him  of  about  the  only  clue  he  had.  When 
they  had  parted  the  Captain  was  quite  evidently 
very  much  angered,  and  what  he  might  do  under 
the  influence  of  anger  Jack  could  not  even  guess. 

The    story  of  her  lover  greatly  alarmed   Lucy, 

239 


240        JACK  GORDON,   KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

and  before  Jack  succeeded  in  allaying  her  fears 
they  had  reached  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Van  Huyn. 
The  lady  was  engaged  in  the  room  she  had  allotted 
to  the  use  of  Lucy  and  Jack,  when  the  former  was 
under  her  roof,  and  she  received  them  there. 

Glad  to  see  them  again,  she  told  Lucy  she  had 
felt  quite  lonely  over  her  departure.  When  she  was 
informed  of  the  happy  reconciliation  with  Lucy's 
adopted  father,  she  congratulated  both  in  warm 
terms  on  the  prosperous  turn  affairs  had  taken. 

Seizing  the  opportunity  to  make  his  recognition 
of  her  kindness,  Jack  said  quite  pointedly,  indeed 
Lucy  thought  with  unnecessary  elaboration,  that 
Mrs.  Van  Huyn  had  put  him  under  such  obliga- 
tions, that  the  lady  could  at  all  times,  under  all 
circumstances,  and  at  all  hazards,  command  his 
loyal  friendship. 

Perceiving  the  embarrassment  of  Mrs.  Van  Huyn 
under  Jack's  fervent  protestations,  Lucy  success- 
fully turned  the  conversation  into  other  channels. 
Jack,  who  was  plainly  laboring  under  much  excite- 
ment, became  abstracted,  lost  part  of  the  conver- 
sation, which,  when  he  was  appealed  to,  had  to  be 
repeated  to  him,  before  he  could  understand  what 
had  been  said  to  him.  So  singular  was  his  manner 
that  Lucy  was  quite  ashamed  of  him,  and  Mrs. 
Van  Huyn  began  to  think  he  had  been  indulging 
freely  during  the  day. 

This  had  been  going  on  for  some  time,  when 
Jack  arose  and  said  : 

"  I  hope,  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,  you  will  pardon  the 
liberty  I  am  about  to  take.  Yesterday,  when  Lucy 
and  I  were  searching  for  paper  to  write  a  note,  I 
accidentally  made  a  discovery  which  interested  me 
greatly." 

He  went  to  the  secretary,  mention  of  which  was 
made  in  a  previous  chapter,  and  lifting  the  cover 
which  formed  the  desk,  pressed  the  secret  spring 


OBLIGATIONS  OF  FRIENDSHIP.  241 

he  had  discovered  and  from  the  drawer,  which  flew 
open  at  his  touch,  took  a  case. 

Mrs.  Van  Huyn's  face  flushed  red,  and  she  cried 
in  tones  of  pained  surprise  : 

"  Mr.  Gordon  !  " 

Lucy  was  aghast  at  his  freedom. 

But  he  continued,  regardless  of  their  displeasure  : 

"  When  I  was  a  lad  of  twenty  I  traveled  in 
Europe  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jamieson,  and  while 
there  made  a  present  to  Mrs.  Jamieson  of  a  brace 
of  pistols  with  singularly  carved  handles.  They 
were  in  a  case  similar  to  this." 

He  opened  it. 

"  The  pair  was  exactly  like  this  one.  There  is 
one  missing  here." 

Was  it  only  anger  over  Jack's  rudeness  and 
freedom,  that  made  the  color  leave  the  face  of  Mrs. 
Van  Huyn,  and  a  wild  fright  come  into  her  eyes  ? 

"I  always  supposed,"  continued  Jack,  "that 
these  ivory  sides  to  the  handles  were  not  the  ones 
originally  made  for  the  pistols — they  were  placed 
on  afterwards  to  increase  the  value  and  beauty. 
Mrs.  Jamieson  kept  them  several  years,  but  about 
two  years  ago  her  husband  loaned  them  to  some- 
body, he  had  forgotten  who.  Perhaps  it  was  you 
and  you  have  neglected  to  return  them.  I  wonder 
if  my  theory  is  correct  ? " 

Mrs.  Van  Huyn  sat  upright  and  rigid,  her  face 
the  color  of  marble,  and  as  hard,  her  eyes  fixed  on 
Jack,  her  hands  tightly  clasping  the  arms  of  her 
chair.  She  did  not  seem  to  breathe. 

Jack  took  from  his  pocket  a  knife  and  loosened 
the  screws  which  held  the  ivory  sides  in  place. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  am  quite  certain  they  were 
put  on  to  increase  their  value." 

The  two  pieces  dropped  into  his  hand. 

"  They  are  of  little  use  and  would  be  far  better 
out  of  the  way." 


242        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

He  threw  them  into  the  fire. 

Mrs.  Van  Huyn  made  no  effort  to  restrain  him. 
Still  rigid  and  motionless,  she  sat  staring  at  Jack 
with  wild,  frightened  eyes  and  white  face. 

Lucy  was  utterly  bewildered.  She  had  not  as 
yet  penetrated  Jack's  purpose. 

"These  pistols  usually  come  apart  into  several 
pieces,"  he  continued,  as  he  unscrewed  them, 
throwing  part  after  part  into  the  fire. 

"  The  contents  have  gone  into  the  fire,  the  case 
should  follow." 

He  broke  it  into  several  pieces  and  threw  them 
in  as  well.  Lucy  was  entertaining  doubts  as  to 
Jack's  sanity.  But  there  was  neither  motion  nor 
word  from  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,  only  that  wild,  fright- 
ened stare. 

"  There  is  something  else  I  want  to  speak  of, 
Mrs.  Van  Huyn,"  resumed  Jack.  "  Some  time  ago, 
in  behalf  of  Lucy  here,  I  obtained  some  letters  she 
had  written  from  a  person  now  dead.  When  I 
placed  them  in  her  hands,  she  found  among  them 
a  letter  which  did  not  properly  belong  to  the 
package." 

He  took  a  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  opening  it 
showed  it  to  Mrs.  Van  Huyn.- 

"  It  is  signed  '  Dollie  Dux,'  you  perceive." 

She  made  no  effort  to  take  it ;  she  did  not  even 
look  at  it ;  she  did  not  take  her  eyes  from  Jack's 
face, — those  wild,  frightened  eyes, — but  still  stared 
at  him,  her  lips  colorless  as  her  cheeks,  parched 
and  slightly  parted  ;  her  breast  heaving. 

Lucy  understood  now,  and  going  to  her  old 
schoolmate  and  friend,  sat  beside  her,  taking  her 
hand  in  her  own. 

"  This  letter  should  go  into  the  fire  as  well,"  said 
Jack,  throwing  it  on  the  coals  and  watching  it 
blaze  up. 

He  turned  again  to-Mrs.  Van  Huyn. 


OBLIGATIONS   OF  FRIENDSHIP.  243 

"  The  detective  found  other  letters  signed  '  Dol- 
iie  Dux,'  and  has  been  trying  by  their  means  to 
trace  the  writer.  But  those  letters  were  all  burned 
to-day  ;  not  one  signed  '  Dollie  Dux  '  remains. 
I  burned  them  all  to-day, — all  of  them,  every 
one." 

Was  it  a  gleam  of  hope  that  altered  for  a  fleeting 
instant  the  expression  of  those  stony  blue  eyes  ? 

"  Nothing  now  remains,"  continued  Jack.  "  No 
proof  exists.  Everything  is  destroyed.  Nothing 
can  be  traced.  '  Dollie  Dux  '  will  now  never  be 
found,  unless  she  reveals  herself,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve she  will  be  foolish  enough  to  do  that.  It 
would  be  well  for  her,  however,  if  she  were  to  leave 
the  country  for  a  while.  But  three  persons  in  all 
this  world  have  any  certainty  as  to  her  identity : 
Herself,  and  two  others,  and  these  two  will  suffer 
imprisonment  rather  than  reveal  it.  She  may  go 
in  security  and  contentment,  for  she  will  leave 
those  two  behind  her  to  watch  her  interests." 

The  hand  of  Mrs.  Van  Huyn  was  cold  and 'life- 
less, and  she  did  not  seem  to  know  that  Lucy  was 
holding  and  chafing  it. 

"  You  are  not  well,  Mrs.  Van  Huyn,"  said  Jack. 
"  Your  husband  goes  to  Europe  shortly,  and 
though  I  know  you  are  disinclined  to  go,  yet  I 
think  you  should.  It  would  improve  your  health. 
You  should  stay  as  long  as  you  could." 

"  Come,  Lucy,"  he  said,  after  a  moment,  "  Mrs. 
Van  Huyn  is  not  well.  Her  social  duties  have  been 
too  much  for  her,  doubtless.  If  we  stay  longer  we 
will  weary  her.  Come." 

Lucy  rose,  and  bending  over  her  old  schoolmate, 
for  whose  misery  and  misfortune  she  had  profound 
pity,  kissed  her  tenderly,  the  tears  streaming  down 
her  face. 

Mrs.  Van  Huyn  made  no  response,  nor  motion, 
that  indicated  she  was  aware  of  the  caress.  She 


244  ACK  GOKnOX,  KXIGHT  ERKAXT. 


still  sat  upright  and  rigid,  her  face  white  as  marble, 
her  wild,  frightened  eyes  still  on  Jack,  as  if  she 
were  fascinated  by  him. 

Jack  and  Lucy  went  out  together,  passing  along 
the  hall.  They  turned  to  look  at  her  through  the 
open  door.  She  was  kneeling  on  the  floor,  her 
arms  on  the  table,  her  head  buried  in  them.  Her 
frame  was  convulsed  with  a  storm  of  sobs  ;  tears 
had  come  to  her  relief. 

"She  is  saved,"  whispered  Jack,  and  they  silently 
went  into  the  street. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

MARRIAGE    BELLS. 

ON  the  twenty-third  of  February,  1884,  two 
events  occurred.  The  Servia  steamed  out  of 
the  harbor  at  a  late  hour  in  the  afternoon, 
bearing,  among  its  passengers,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Van 
Huyn  for  a  lengthened  stay  abroad. 

And — a  matter  of  great  importance  to  two  of  our 
friends — Miss  Lucy  Sherman  was  given  away  at 
the  altar  of  Grace  Church  by  Dr.  Sherman,  to  Mr. 
John  Gordon.  The  Bishop  of  the  diocese  solem- 
nized the  gift  at  twelve  o'clock  noon. 

The  reception  after  the  ceremony  took  place  in 
the  ample  parlors  of  Mrs.  Jamieson,  and  the  dainty 
little  hostess  fluttered  like  a  humming-bird  among 
the  guests,  so  happy  was  she  over  the  good  for- 
tune of  her  favorite.  In  this  she  vied  with  Dr. 
Sherman,  who  beamed  on  all  with  smiles  and  good 
nature. 

The  newly  married  pair  stood  under  a  floral  bell 
of  huge  proportions,  which  "  Dizzy  "  had  insisted 
on  providing  and  would  not  be  denied. 

To  them  came  their  friends  to  say  pleasant 
words.  Among  them  a  lady  and  gentleman  in 
traveling  costume,  apologizing  that  their  trunks 
were  already  on  the  steamer,  and  saying  they  could 
not  deny  themselves  the  pleasure  of  wishing  them 
well  and  happy  for  all  their  lives.  The  lady  did  a 
strange  thing  when  she  was  unobserved.  She  took 
the  hand  of  the  groom,  pressing  a  warm  kiss  upon 


246        JACK  GORDON,  KNIGHT  ERRANT. 

it,  and  after  bending  upon  him  a  look  of  love 
and  gratitude  hastened  away. 

Mollie  Lowell  and  Will  Robb  came  and  passed 
by  with  light  and  gracious  words,  but  not  until 
Mollie  had  whispered  to  the  groom  : 

"  It's  catching,  Jack.  I've  been  and  gone  and 
done  it  too.  Yes,  to  Will.  He's  advertising  it  by 
his  conscious  looks." 

"  Dizzy  "  came  with  an  eye  on  the  bell  to  see 
that  it  was  plumb,  and  said  : 

"  Jack,  old  man,  you  look  so  happy  and  your 
bride  so  sweet,  I  almost  feel  like  taking  a  stable 
mate  myself." 

All  whose  acquaintance  we  have  made  in  these 
pages  came,  but  the  surprise  of  the  day  was  to  see 
Captain  Lawton  struggling  forward  in  the  throng. 
He  had  seized  the  opportunity  to  go  on  duty  at 
the  house,  that  he  might  say  pleasant  words. 

"  I  congratulate  you,"  he  said  to  Jack,  slowly  as 
was  his  wont.  "  I  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Gordon. 
You  ought  to  be  a  happy  man,  and  I  suppose  you 
are.  I've  dropped  that  case  ;  it  goes  on  the  list  of 
undiscovered  mysterious  ones." 

"  Indeed  ?  "  replied  Jack.     "  How  is  that  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  track  it.  The  clues  and  proof 
were  all  destroyed — destroyed  accidentally.  What 
you  can't  prove  it's  no  use  to  look  after.  Besides, 
I  guess  the  bird  is  flown — flown  to  Europe.  It 
ain't  so  bad.  I'd  like  to  have  had  the  triumph. 
But  it  don't  harm  me  to  have  a  miss  once  in  a  long 
time.  I  can  stand  it." 

Turning  to  the  bride  he  said  : 

"  I  wish  you  joy,  madam — joy  all  your  life  and 
plenty  of  it.  You  have  got  a  man  to  cherish  and  be 
proud  of.  He  is  a  man  who  takes  more  chances — 
has  taken  more  chances — for  a  friend  than  any  man 
I  ever  knew,  or  ever  expected  to  know.  And  if  he 
will  take  them  for  a  friend,  what  won't  he  do  for  the 


MARRIAGE  BELLS.  247 

wife  he  loves  ?  He's  a  big,  strong-hearted  man, 
madam.  But  you're  worthy  of  him,  madam.  And 
the  worst  wish  I've  got  for  myself  is,  that  if  ever  I 
get  into  trouble",  I  shall  have  two  such  friends  as 
you  at  my  back.  I  wish  you  both  joy." 

He  moved  off  to  give  room  to  others  to  offer 
kind  wishes,  but  none  were  more  sincere,  though 
they  may  have  been  offered  in  more  graceful 
phrase. 

With  the  sound  of  the  wedding  bells  still  falling 
pleasantly  on  our  ears,  the  pen  is  cast  aside — the 
story  is  done. 


THE   END. 


000  "37"  068 


